Close Encounters 20
by chezchuckles
Summary: Happy and Glorious. Spy Castle and Beckett welcome their jungle parasite.
1. Chapter 1

**Close Encounters 20: Happy and Glorious**

* * *

for **You  
**because you're still here after twenty of these  
and you deserve something happy and glorious for them

* * *

When Castle yanked the sweat-soaked t-shirt over his head and threw it towards the bench, he heard his wife cursing from the locker room showers.

"Oh, shit," she moaned.

He moved away from the lockers and saw her standing before the mirror, inspecting her hip. Kate was only in yoga pants and that not-fair, so-hot lace bra, freshly sweaty from their cross-fit training session. He'd followed her into the locker room on the Office's sub-level gym, intending to have some fun in the shower, but she was rubbing her fingers over the stretch of her stomach.

"Shit, shit, _shit_," she hissed.

Castle laughed and came up behind her in the mirror, framed her hips with his hands to move her fingers away from her belly. Kate had been trying to clean up her language since the baby could 'hear' in the womb, but neither of them were very good at it. "What is it now?" he said, squeezing her hands.

"My tattoo," she growled. Her eyes were fixed on the mirror, but his were on her, the curve and steel of her.

He grinned when she finally met his eyes. "Hot."

"It's not _hot_. It's stretched," she huffed. "This is all your fault."

"It's not stretched," he laughed. "I swear. No, Kate, it's-"

She shoved him - hard - away from her, and he laughed again, trying not to be an ass.

"Kate, baby, wait a second. Wait." Castle grabbed her around the waist, the best he could, fingers at the bare skin of her hips. "Look, hang on. It hasn't stretched."

"It has." She turned in the mirror again and touched her fingers to her hipbone - or where her hip bone was supposed to be, had been, would be again in about twelve weeks. "The letters have definitely stretched."

The Russian letters _hadn't_ stretched; she was wrong. "I know your body pretty well, don't you think?"

She rolled her eyes and then gave him a death stare in the mirror, but he wasn't deterred. A pregnant Beckett was feisty and a little vicious and damn strong, and he liked pushing her as hard as she liked shoving back.

"I know your body, Kate Beckett. It hasn't moved. And your Russian bear is fucking hot," he murmured. She was all narrow-eyed suspicion, but he pressed his palm to her skin, still able to cover the black outline of the bear, the Russian inside it. Distinctly morose and entirely befitting the Beckett who'd gotten it so long ago, but it reminded him of that core of strength in her, the woman who had survived thirteen days in a cave alone.

"It'll stretch in the next few weeks though," she muttered. "Fuck. I'm so - angry."

"Angry?" he chuckled. "Baby, surely you knew that might happen when you got it?"

"No. I wasn't - this isn't a tattoo a pregnant woman gets."

"I don't mean - shit. Beckett, come on. You didn't once stop to think about how it would stretch when you got pregnant?" She wasn't stupid; she was an intelligent woman who thought things through, saw all the ramifications. She was a damn fine agent because of it, had been a great detective. And even a nineteen year old freshly mourning her mother wasn't going to make a stupid decision.

Kate's fingers curled, her eyes avoiding his in the mirror. "When I got this, Castle, I wasn't planning on being pregnant."

"Ever?"

Her jaw was set - against him - and she turned around, pushed out of the crowd of his body and towards the showers. The lacy black bra was calling his name, but he wanted to hear more about what she'd been thinking when she'd gotten inked.

"Kate. Ever?"

She flipped on the water in the skinny, curtainless shower stall, crossed her arms above her stomach. It still did funny things to his guts to see her, see the baby growing, her body changing. For the most part, Beckett had been just as grateful and pleased as he had; this was the first time he'd ever heard her frustrated with the way pregnancy was shaping her.

"You know what it says," Kate said finally. "The Russian. You know what it means."

He knew what it meant; he'd looked up the Pushkin poem the moment he'd read those words inside the angry bear, found the book of poetry on her shelves in her apartment and read her college notes.

It had made him want her, made him intrigued by her furious and unapologetic _grief_. Her mother had been murdered and she'd taken a vow. Castle himself had never encountered that kind of pure and honest feeling before. He'd been the machine, and she'd been filled with intensity, and so of course he'd been moth to her flame.

"I know what it means," he admitted, reaching past her to test the water. Cold, freezing cold, and he nudged the faucet, using it as an excuse to touch that tattoo with his other hand, as if for balance.

She shivered. "I wanted to be that, have that power despite the sadness."

"You are that," he murmured. "You are. We are, aren't we?"

"That's the thing," she sighed, a sad little smile. "I never thought there could be a we."

"Us?"

"Not just us - anyone else at all. Just me. It was a crusade, an obsession - you saw how I was. No one else could fit, Castle. So there definitely wouldn't be any stretching going on. No marriage and babies in that world."

He pressed two fingers to the black bear, felt her skin rippling under his touch. He loved how she reacted to him, but he was proud too of how he'd been the one to break through to her, he'd been the one to stretch her.

More ways than one.

"I marked myself," she said suddenly. "That's what I did. I branded myself with it so that - so that there'd never be an us, never be that life. I was going to bring my mother's killer to justice. And so to make that happen - to make it impossible to do anything else - I got a tattoo."

Even though Castle had known that about her, he had never put words to it, how she'd radically altered herself for him after being so determined, and for so long, to put on blinders to life and not allow herself happiness.

"I've got scars," he started, his thumb pressing against the edge of the bear and sliding over it, making her shiver again. "I've got scars - and you know all their stories. But spies aren't allowed to be marked, to have those distinguishable characteristics that might let us be recognized-"

"I don't want it removed," she whispered.

"No, love, that's not - no. I don't mean that. I mean, I admire you. I wish I'd had a reason. Ever. I wish I had wanted something so much, been so passionate... I never had a reason to get a tattoo. But I do now. You. You'd be my ink."

Kate tilted her head, that look of hers where she was smiling but didn't want to smile, to give it out so easily. She pressed her lips together but he ignored the allure of her mouth and instead framed her hips with his hands and squatted down, kissed the barely stretched Russian bear just below her hipbone.

Kate sighed, her fingers coming to the back of his neck and stroking in his hair. He smiled against the tattoo and stood up again, the locker room now swirling with steam between them. She sucked in a breath and blinked, her eyes on him, and Castle stepped into her, an arm sliding around her waist.

She pressed her mouth to his jaw and nipped his skin, teeth sharp, the rumble in her throat making him aware.

"Shower, Kate," he husked.

"Mm, good idea. Wanna help me out of this thing?" She shifted his hand and his finger slid under the strap of her bra, hooked. "Bought it with you in mind."

"Hell, yeah."

* * *

"Happy third trimester," Logan laughed, raising his glass to her.

Kate rolled her eyes. "Happy brand new lab," she said.

Castle was on the far side of the newly-appointed working quarters for the Regimen Medical Team. The RMT, as Castle was calling it, had needed greater security and a more clandestine designation after Threkeld's kidnapping. Stone Farm just wasn't ideal any longer, and Ragle had been all too happy to have their 'science project' moved off his premises and out from under his purview.

She and Castle had done it themselves, nestling their Stone Farm people inside of a huge, multi-national corporate headquarters on the fiftieth floor of an imposing skyscraper in downtown New York. There was room for the all the various experiments that Boyd and Logan had running, and the anonymity to focus on the regimen.

Castle always said it was easiest to hide in a crowd. Even Threkeld was able to leave his apartment in the city and walk to work, despite everything.

"How's Gerald?" she asked Logan quietly.

"He's okay," Logan nodded. Dr Threkeld might never be the same again, and for that Kate - and she knew her husband as well - felt responsible. "He's leaving his house to come to work, so that's a positive sign."

"I heard Dr King was visiting with him."

"Yeah. Not officially, of course." Logan winced and rubbed the top of his head; he'd recently shaved it close so that the hair bristled sharp. It made his ears stick out like he was a ten year old.

She liked it a lot. She had dreams of eventually cutting James's hair like that in the summers and being able to rub her hand over it.

That she had visions like that at all was different for her. She had always relied heavily on Castle's optimism and sense of inevitable and glorious happiness - his _my dreams come true_ rationale - but lately, she'd found those visions coming easier for her.

Hope.

"What?" Logan muttered. "You're staring at me."

"Yeah, the hair-"

"Shut up."

"Bend down. I want to rub your head for good luck."

"You're such a brat," he grumped.

"My wife is a brat?" a voice said. Castle came up behind her and slid his arm around her waist, kissed the side of her neck with a little more wet tongue than was appropriate. But he released her and didn't hang on her, and she was grateful he had some restraint.

"Don't you think his shaved head is perfect to rub for luck?" she told him, nodding to Logan. "Come on, let me at least touch it."

"Will it cut you?" Castle joked.

"You're not supposed to be encouraging her."

"She requires no encouragement. Beckett will do exactly as she wishes with no help from me," Castle grinned. But he nudged one of the lab stools her way, using those silent bullying tactics he'd taken up lately.

She wasn't tired; her feet didn't hurt. The start of her third trimester didn't mean she was going to collapse. In fact, at twenty-eight weeks, she had more energy than she'd had in the first six weeks. That might have been due to not having bruised ribs, granted, or that she now had twenty-eight weeks worth of supplements fueling her body, but she felt strong, healthy.

Her center of balance had shifted, her hips were a little wider, and she could cross her arms over her stomach and rest them there, prop them like a shelf - but that was about it.

"How's your wife like New York?" she asked, switching the subject back to what she'd been meaning to get to.

Logan shrugged. "She's an outdoors girl at heart, so it's not her favorite place right now. But I think it will be okay. She's got the night shift in the Emergency Department at Sacred Heart. She really likes that. The busyness."

"She's a nurse, right?" Castle asked, taking a sip of his drink. "Does she want in on the project? I mean, she could-"

"Naw, I would drive her crazy," Logan admitted, giving them both a self-deprecating smile. "I already drive her crazy. She wants me out of the house. Out of the way. And thanks for that, the house. I can't... it's pretty amazing. And she loves it."

Kate and Castle had searched for weeks trying to find the perfect place to put Logan and his wife Alyssa, the ideal home for a couple of transplants, both of whom were used to small towns and open spaces. The townhome had been expensive, but after they'd sold the villa in Rome, it had been actually quite affordable. They'd bought both the townhouse and the duplex that Boyd and Threkeld lived in.

"How's Gerald?" Castle asked then, like it had been the question he'd wanted to ask all along.

Kate smiled and leaned in to kiss his cheek for it; he looked startled but he was listening to Logan repeat the news, so she drifted away from them. She rescued her glass of white sparkling grape juice and headed for the men clustered around one of the new lab tables.

"Dr King," she smiled. "Thanks for coming to our party."

"Pretty momentous. They've done a lot of work here."

"So have you," she insisted. He was part of their team; this group had all banded together to help her and Castle not only survive, but thrive. So much of their current regimen was based on some quick thinking and harried research to produce the best results, and while Kate still didn't love watching those pregnant rats jog on their spinning wheels, she had to admit it was working.

She could spin the wheel for as long as James needed.

"Hey, Kate," Dr Boyd called to her, shifting into the group. He had a glass of wine in his hand, and it was mostly gone. He looked the most relaxed she had seen since they had moved everyone to New York. "Kate, I need to apologize."

"Apologize?" she laughed. Dr Boyd was usually so cheerful, and the wine had put a sparkle in his eyes, but his words belied it.

"We've nicknamed him. We shouldn't have, but we couldn't help it."

"Nicknamed... oh, James?" she said. She pressed her lips together to keep from laughing again. Dr Boyd was looking quite remorseful.

"Oh, no. No. Harry, don't-"

Kate interrupted Logan as he approached and tried to warn Boyd away. "Hush, you. Let him finish. He was about to confess all to me."

Logan groaned as Boyd opened his mouth. "We couldn't very well put his name down in lab work or record keeping, of course. We're all trying to keep the secret-"

"Yes, I know," she said warmly. "We appreciate it. Whatever nickname you've come up with is - I'm sure - quite okay."

"We call him Charlie Echo," Boyd sighed, his shoulders slumping. He gave her a sad look from behind his glasses, as if hopeful for forgiveness but not expecting it.

"Charlie... Echo?" she said.

"Because he's Charlie One," Logan muttered, jerking his thumb over his shoulder.

Kate turned around and saw Castle had come up behind her, his body framing hers. "What's this?" he said.

"They've given the wolf a name," she said, smiling at him over her shoulder. "Charlie Echo."

There was a moment of held breath as they all looked at Castle, waiting on his response, and then Logan sighed. "Echo for short."

Castle barked out a laugh and it broke the tension; his grin seemed to light up the whole room. Kate laughed with him, rubbing the top of her stomach where James liked to camp out and squirm when he heard his father's voice.

"Echo," Castle said. "I like it. That's great."

"It's not official - there are, of course, absolutely no mentions of James as a little human. I promise our records are-"

"We know you're being discrete," Kate reassured him. "And we all have aliases in this family. One more can't hurt."

Logan snorted, but even _he_ had seemed ill-at-ease about telling her. "You call him a wolf and a jungle parasite. We figured Echo wasn't too bad."

"Not bad at all."

Beneath her hand, James shifted and stretched, apparently curious about all the noise. Castle's fingers came to her lower back and knuckled against her spine; a knot unwound at his touch and melted away, pain she hadn't even known she'd had.

She still wasn't spending the rest of this party sitting on a damn stool.

* * *

Castle watched his wife as she balanced on a stool at the far end of the lab. She was beautiful, and it wasn't because she was pregnant with their son. It wasn't the regimen either. It was something about her posture - the round curve of her shoulders and the straight line of her back that looked both casual but not tired - just strong.

And it was the compassion in her eyes as she talked with Gerald Threkeld and his wife, the little touch to the wife's hand, the smile that was a toned-down version of her usual radiance just to keep from scaring him. Threkeld was a changed man, but he could be rehabilitated. The work was helping.

"We have a good idea," Boyd said, standing in front of Castle with a plate of cheeses. He munched on a cracker and nodded. "We have a very good idea of the projection of his growth."

"Echo," Castle mused, smiling back at the man.

"Yes," Boyd flushed. He picked up his wine glass from the table beside him, sipped. He was still pink-skinned with the alcohol he'd had the last hour or so, but he wasn't sloppy about it. Quite neat, in fact. "Mary says by October, but I'm still placing him mid-November."

Castle was amused by how well the two had gotten along - Kate's OB and the fixated Dr Boyd. "Why do you two think so differently?" he asked. He spotted Mary Dennison conferring with Logan in another corner; they were petting the pregnant rats.

"She thinks physical growth is an indicator for all things. But look at you."

"What about me?" Castle laughed.

"You've not aged ahead of your time, despite advanced healing. Whatever your physical growth - your healing doesn't come at the expense of years of your life."

"Huh."

"In fact, you operate and perform at the level of a much younger man. Your sperm count and your recov-"

"Ah," Castle interrupted, holding up a hand. "Let's leave conversations like this between me and my wife."

Boyd laughed heartily, causing Mary and Logan to turn and look. Before Logan could come on over and check on the man, Castle waved him off. Boyd wasn't harming anyone.

"My - recovery, so to speak," Castle said, "is an indication that I'm not an old man?"

"Not older than your years. In fact, much younger. My argument is that Echo's gestation rate might actually be _longer_."

"Oh, _please_ do not tell Kate that."

Boyd blinked, and then he laughed again. "Oh, yes. Well. I will endeavor not to alarm her. I have told her that I thought longer than nine months, but I won't insist."

Longer than nine months. Shit. They were so close now that all Castle could think about was what happened when their nine months was over, when their deal with Black ran out. What would they do when the shield of her pregnancy didn't cloak Kate any longer?

But if they had more time...

"Don't even think it," Kate said. Suddenly she was right before him, pointing her finger at Boyd. "I know what you're telling him. There's no way in hell I'm carrying this kid for longer than nine months."

Boyd smiled at her, entirely spellbound of course. "No, no. I won't insist. I just think it's such an interesting question."

"Question all you like," Castle encouraged. He didn't mind the man running the gamut of the regimen, letting permutations out into the air. He wanted that. It was the whole point of this lab in the city, giving their team the space and funds to do whatever was necessary to keep them alive - Kate, their son, himself.

If it meant he and Kate had to entertain Castle's father's whims just to get answers for these guys, then that's what they'd do. He was beginning to grow _used_ to it - the constant tidbits that came and went from John Black, the snatches of information he sent Kate just to prove he was still in the game. They dutifully gave everything over to their Regimen Medical team, making sure to keep this place completely off the radar.

Of course, wasn't that how his own father had started with the Collective? Setting up secret labs off the government's payroll...

He couldn't think about that right now. The RMT was about saving his family.

* * *

"How'd it go?" Ryan asked him quietly. Castle nodded back and crossed his arms over his chest, standing in the command center.

"Good. Think it was good."

"And Threkeld?"

"He's doing better," Castle insisted. "Really. The work helps. He's dedicated to the work; he sees applications in his own field that he wants to adapt. We're trying to find ways to allow his usual research, and now that we're not under the CIA's umbrella..."

Ryan scoffed. "It's not like that's gonna make it easier, Castle."

He winced and shrugged. "Not easier. But less red tape. We'll find ways to work from the ground up and he can publish his research in JAMA, that kind of thing. There's a team out of Johns Hopkins that's doing pioneering work in his field with some of the same elements. He's been sharing data with them. Cautiously."

"Sharing data," Ryan said warily.

"I know. But it's... it's no good if all this shit we've been through is for nothing. Saving a few lives - even if it's my own, my family - that's good and right. But saving thousands from some incurable blood disorder?"

Ryan shook his head, seemed to wince. "Well, all right. I see what you're saying. It still feels shaky, all that information out there. And Threkeld doesn't seem the most stable right now."

"He's the one that wanted the data out in the public domain," Castle answered softly. "He wants his work to be put to good use. And he had a good point: the more teams who are working on this kind of thing - blood disorders and mitochondria function in cell regeneration - then the bigger the pool is. One day maybe we're using something the Johns Hopkins guys found to help my son, you see?"

A woman from the department that ran the Eastern bloc came scuttling past them, headed to her work station, and Ryan and Castle fell silent, only watching the activity in the command center. They'd been careful about the story they'd told these last four months: Threkeld had retired after his ordeal, Stone Farm was being reorganized under Ragle's exclusive control.

If anyone had noticed that a male nurse and a doctor had gone missing from Stone Farm, there had been no rumors, no speculation. The lab in the city wasn't on the CIA's payroll either - it was funded by himself and Kate with help from his father.

It irked him to no end, but the money was so well-concealed it was untraceable. His father had been doing this too long to leave a trail, and Castle's own money came from investments he'd spent nearly twenty years accruing. It was now held in trust in James's name, a boy without even a birth certificate yet.

Though he would. He and Kate were in agreement about that. James wouldn't be a shadow child.

"Is it settled?" Ryan asked then. "The whole... RMT?"

Castle glanced around him at the command center's humming activity, the respect his team members gave him, the efficiency. "As settled as it can be."

"And Beckett?"

Castle grinned. "She's good. Ready to stop being pregnant, but we've only got six weeks now."

Ryan elbowed him. "Sarah Grace is looking forward to it. Play dates, right? Arrange their marriage now."

Castle laughed and it felt good, talking with a friend about their children, forecasting their lives.

He never thought that would be him.

But it might. "What do we do when Esposito has a kid?"

"Javi?" Ryan snorted. "Right."

"What? You don't think he will? People used to say that about me."

"No, not that. I don't think he'd _let_ his kid marry yours."

Castle laughed so hard that people turned around to look.

He clapped Ryan on the back and pushed him off towards his station. "Right. Good point. Get back to work, Ry. I've got a budget meeting I'm late to."


	2. Chapter 2

**Close Encounters 20**

* * *

Kate sat cross-legged on Dr King's couch, checked her watch once more.

"Am I keeping you?" Dr King said smoothly, faint amusement in his voice.

"No," she smiled back. "I'm supposed to be at a budget meeting right now. It can wait."

"You'd rather be in therapy than at work?" King raised both eyebrows. "Wow. We really have come a long way, Kate."

"Or budget meetings are worse than therapy," she answered with a wincing apology.

He chuckled softly, a nod of his head to indicate he understood and forgave her. "Did you want to talk more about Richard?"

"No," she said, though she heard the question in her own voice. "We've figured it out - what stupid things we do to each other. It's a matter of finding a way to stop doing them in the first place."

"Of course," King said. "But no one is perfect. You'll still hurt each other."

"I know," she sighed. "This helps." She splayed her fingers along the top of her stomach, realized she was doing it again, resting her hands over the baby. Unconsciously, she'd begun to protect him these days, enfold him.

"The baby helps you not hurt each other?"

Kate winced. Another off-hand comment taken as truth. Well, she supposed it really was true. "We try harder now? Or... no, we've always struggled to get back to each other. But now it's about figuring out how we work rather than just trusting that it will always work."

"Does it always work?"

She smiled. "Yes. It always works." Her fingers traced the unseen lines on her skin, the places where she'd stretched so much this month. The baby was growing, her body was an unfamiliar reflection in the mirror.

Her feet were falling asleep. She shifted and uncrossed her legs, pushed off from the couch to stand. King stayed in his seat - she'd already stalked out of one of his sessions in a foul mood after he'd tried to help her up.

She paced the length of the room and arrested at the window. Already the air had turned sharper and touched the trees, made their leaves turn yellow against the sky. They still had a few days left of warm weather, but not for long.

"I'm not afraid of him," she said into the silence.

"You're not."

It wasn't a question and she was grateful for that. Of course King knew whom she was referring to. They'd talked of no one else for weeks now.

"I just don't know what happens if he tries to..."

"What could he try?" King answered. "Run through the scenarios again, Kate. Follow that thought to its logical conclusions."

"He steals my son," she shot back, twisting to look at King in his chair. The man only lifted an eyebrow.

"Which would be," she admitted, swallowing, "difficult to do. It's hard to steal a baby from a hospital, even moreso to be on the run with a newborn who needs care. I understand."

King only waited.

"Castle would never let it happen," she murmured. "That's... my worst fear."

"The your husband would do something irreparable while saving your son."

She nodded, eyes on the sky.

"Please elaborate," King commanded quietly.

"He shoots John Black and kills him and the regimen - everything it does - remains a mystery. Castle has already been - I've seen him; he thinks I'm not paying attention, but I know he's not taking the shots any more."

"He is not," King answered.

Beckett turned sharply back to the man. "_What?_"

"We had a team meeting."

"Why in the _hell_ didn't anyone invite _me_ to this meeting?"

"I apologize, Kate. Badly worded. It wasn't official. Richard asked Boyd what he thought would happen if such-and-such were done, he and Logan ran a few experiments, they reached a conclusion. I believe the supplements have been altered to contain a milder form of the serum?"

"Oh?" Milder form. What did that mean in the real world? "What does it - why didn't he tell me? Why am I just now-"

"You should ask him, you know."

She paused and let out a breath. _It always works_, she'd said. Ha. "He doesn't want to have to take it. I already know. He's told me that he's looking into ways he can wean himself off of it. I knew that much."

"Because of his father."

Because Black no longer took the regimen. "But look what happened to him," she murmured. His ruined face. The half-crippled side.

"Perhaps he survived Richard's violence _because_ of the regimen. Perhaps his however-long use of the regimen is what allowed him to recover any function whatsoever."

"Oh."

"Kate."

She chewed on her bottom lip and looked back at King.

"Homework."

She groaned.

He smiled. "Homework," he repeated, "for tonight. Not tomorrow. Not when you feel up to it. Tonight. Ask your husband why he didn't tell you he'd adjusted his regimen."

She grimaced, but she took King seriously. She wouldn't put it off. Somehow it was always easier to get into the muck and mire of their relationship if she started it with, _King said to ask you..._

"All right," she sighed. "Tonight."

* * *

Kate was staring at him even as he tried to explain. The kitchen was warm and still filled with the smell of the lasagna he'd made, the ricotta cheese and his specialty meat sauce, and the heavier touches of good bread.

It should be enough, he'd thought. It should be enough to counterbalance her accusations. But she was - hurt. And he hadn't intended that, and now he was trying not to be offended either.

Kate had homework. They always worked on homework after dinner in the kitchen, but this time the sense of home and rightness wasn't dispelling the fury on her face.

"But you _didn't think to tell me_?"

"I thought you had enough on your plate," he said feebly.

"Castle. You moron."

He grimaced but reached for her, tried to catch her around the waist - because he wasn't thinking. There was nothing to catch. He managed to snag one hipbone, and she stumbled into him, her belly knocking into his side, but wow. He _was_ a moron, but not so stupid that he would open his mouth and actually _say_ that she looked bigger today than she had yesterday.

But she did. To him, that was a triumphant change. She wouldn't think so.

"I didn't think about it like that," he promised. "It's still the regimen - there's even serum in the stuff I'm taking. I just thought I'd pave the way, while I could. I don't want any of us hooked to this stuff, Kate. You know that. For our son."

She didn't soften; she was becoming inured to that little bit of emotional manipulation.

"And for me," he sighed. "I don't want to be tied to him. I hate it."

She softened now, her arms coming up around his neck and her belly brushing him as she lifted on her toes. Her mouth caught his, nipping at first, rebuking him with her bite, and then soothing with her tongue, her lips.

"I know," she murmured against his mouth. He could feel her body straining, practically at its seams, the skin stretched over her belly and sides, her arms strong and taut, even the muscles in her legs as she worked to get closer to him.

"We're doing trial runs on a few adjustments and so far it's fine. My fingers get cold when-"

"What?"

"Not bad," he hastily assured her. "Only after touching ice for a long time. Like _normal_, Kate. It's not poor blood circulation. Boyd and Logan are both on top of this."

She nodded, her cheek brushing his, her whole body riddled with tension. He realized it wasn't entirely about him, the tension, some of it she was just carrying around - the perks of being pregnant.

"Let me rub your shoulders, your back," he murmured at her ear. His lips caressed her jaw. "Okay? Let me make up for not thinking to tell you."

She clutched her fingers at the back of his neck, in warning or acceptance - or maybe both.

"Okay?" he whispered. He had already let his fingers travel down her spine and along her sides, rubbing firmly at her belly. "I'll get the lotion too, rub it into your skin, dig into your muscles. I can make you feel good, sweetheart."

The baby kicked under Castle's kneading palms and they both jumped, a little breathless with it even now, after so much time. He pushed his thumbs into the sides of her belly and felt the boy shifting, squirming for room. And then the broad, flat nudge of a head into Castle's hand, like a dog looking to be petted.

So he did, rubbing his thumb over that spot in her belly as they both stood stock still in the kitchen, wordless with it.

When the baby settled down again, Kate let out a long, shaky breath. "He - first movement today. I hadn't felt him until you touched me."

"Hey," he whispered gruffly, wrapping his arms around her. "That's okay. Dr Dennison said that happens - he's just gotten his days and nights mixed up, sleeping too long." No wonder she'd been so mad at him.

She nodded then, clutching his shirt in her fists. He kissed her neck, the place that made her pulse flutter, and he pressed his hands into her hips, dragged her as close as they could get.

"Massage still on the table?" she murmured.

"Of course. Anything."

"Then take me to bed, Castle."

* * *

"We established a baseline," he explained. She was curled on her side with his body behind hers, his hand still coasting up and down her side, his knee between hers to keep her hips from shifting out of socket.

"What's your baseline?"

"Post-injection, I can go nine minutes and twenty seconds before my hands start to burn from the ice water."

She shivered and had to catch his hand, draw his arm around her to keep him from touching, waking up everything all over again. He came closer, kissed the side of her neck, breathing her in.

"And on these pills?" she prompted.

"It's six minutes," he admitted. "But Logan? - just sticking his hand in ice water as a test? He forced himself to do a minute and then his fingers were blanched for like five afterwards."

"Yeah, we all know you're super," she muttered. But her skin was still buzzing from all the places he'd touched, all the ways he'd touched, and she was finding it hard to concentrate on being upset with him. All part of his master plan.

_It always works._

"We're doing accurate tests, we catalogue every change. There's some drop in peak performance, but it's well above average. It's not really that much different than what Boyd and Dennison are doing for you, Kate. They've changed your supplements at least six times just in the last two months."

"He's growing," she murmured, feeling bad now for being so angry with him. He hadn't seen it as any big deal, just messing around with formulas and combinations; she'd done the same with Boyd and Dennison and hadn't been giving him detailed notes or anything. "James needs more, but Castle... when you said your fingers were tingling, I just - that's the warning sign, you know? It makes me nervous to think your fingers are going numb."

"I know it does," he sighed into her hair. His lips danced at the back of her neck and now his fingers wriggled in her grip. Curled up together in their bed, the moon falling lightly between the blinds, she could almost forget who she was entirely.

Who she'd been.

What _they_ had been.

The baby nudged her, stretching for room, and she felt Castle bury his smile between her shoulder blades even as her own lips curled up. She nestled back into her husband's body and let him cradle hers for a while, taking her weight and the responsibility.

He played with the boy, pushing the elbow that rose under his palm, poking the foot or knee (hard to tell). It was their game, and she didn't mind - until she did. Castle was good about it at least, always seemed to know when she'd had enough of being their playing field.

"He's lively enough now," her husband murmured. "Maybe he sleeps while you work."

"Maybe."

"He likes voices."

"Yeah," she smiled. "Maybe he's just listening. All the people at the Office, the busyness."

"I bet that's it," Castle whispered. He had a kiss for her along her jaw, and the rasp of his day-old scruff made her smile. He shifted into her back and pressed her into the mattress, and the baby seemed to wriggle under her skin.

"Oof," she muttered. "Calm down."

"Me or-"

"Him," she chuckled, rubbing her palm hard around the spot. "He's elbowing me - both elbows. Can you feel that?"

"Where?"

She reached back for his hand and pulled his arm forward, pressed his palm to the place just below her belly button. "He's sideways, the little parasite. So I feel it in my - I don't know. Inside. And then out. Here-"

"Oh. Wow. Yeah, I feel that." Castle crowded into her back, propping himself up on one hand to lean forward, his other hand rubbing her belly. "You know, you're not as big as you think you are. He's curled up so small in there that he just doesn't have room."

"Um, thanks?" she muttered, rolling her eyes at him.

He actually blushed, shooting her a look. "I mean, you're not. You've got the narrowest profile, Kate, and there's just nowhere for him to _go_. So he..."

"Bulges."

Castle frowned. "No. Nothing on you bulges, sweetheart. Even your belly is firm and trim and-"

"_Trim_? That's not even possible. I'm carrying around a whole _person_, Castle. He's-"

"No, it is possible. Wait, look." He hooked his arm under her neck and sat back on his haunches, hauled her upright and then straight to her feet before she even knew what he was doing.

"No," she whined. "I don't wanna get up. I _just _got comfortable, Castle, and-"

"Come on, come on. Stop complaining. You've got to see this like I do. I get to witness how gorgeous you are and you don't even look."

She stared at him, stunned suddenly by how much he actually _meant_ it.

"What?" he said.

She went to him, turning at the last second to keep James out of her way, wrapped both her arms around her husband. "No. Nothing."

"What? You have the strangest look on your face."

She shook her head, her cheek brushing his shoulder, and Castle gave up and hugged her back. Kate combed her fingers through the soft hair at the nape of his neck and gently kissed his jaw. "I just love you. That's all it is. I love you."

He wrapped his hand around her hair, cupped the back of her head to angle her for a kiss. He mouth was warm, the touch of him drugging, and he murmured his love to her between her lips and tongue.

* * *

The second he stepped into his office, Kate was on her feet and heading for him. How she managed to look so formidable with her navy shirt fitting snugly against her belly, he had no idea. But she did.

He halted just inside the door of his office and waited for her to approach. She'd been waiting for him, sitting in the uncomfortable chair in front of his desk, but she didn't seem to care.

"The Task Force has sent you a request," Kate told him.

For a second, it didn't register. He had no idea what she was talking about, the task force she'd said with definite capital letters. And then it hit him.

"Oh, shit."

She chewed on her bottom lip and Castle shut the door behind them. Still the blinds were open wide to the whole department. He put his back to them and faced Kate, crossing his arms over his chest. The Task Force created to capture John Black had requested his presence.

"When did it come in?"

She wordlessly handed him the tablet and he took it with a heavy heart, glanced at the official request. "This is not ideal," he said hesitantly.

"I don't... you have to go," she answered. But her face was shuttered and he didn't know if she really _wanted_ him to go, even if he had to. "You need to go."

"I don't want to go. It's too close."

"At least go to DC and find out what they have," she countered. She sounded as hesitant as he did. "If they have something on Black, you really need to go."

He angrily rubbed a hand down his face, staring at the request on his mobile work station. He hated this damn task force, but they were dedicated to finding and eliminating the national security threat that his father posed.

"Rick? What are you thinking?"

He didn't know _what_ he thought. He wanted Black out of their lives, he wanted his wife to finally be safe from the threat of his father, but at the same time, he'd come to recognize that there were things they still needed from the man.

His son might need the advanced and thorough knowledge of the regimen, but there was also Kate herself. For all intents and purposes, she'd been taking the regimen for the last seven months. Whatever it might have done, whatever it _was_ doing to her body chemistry, they might need his father's help.

And for himself too, as much as he hated it. Especially if he wanted to finally wean himself off this thing, he would need his father's knowledge. After Castle had nearly died from a mutated form of the common cold, he'd had to face the truth - he needed the regimen and Kate needed him. So Castle was stuck with the man.

"I have to go," he finally admitted.

Kate made a soft noise - disappointment or agreement, he didn't know - and she reached out and touched the edge of the tablet, dipped it down. It brought his eyes up to meet hers.

"Just to DC," she said. "Meet the team. See what intel they have on a location. I'll... see if our source verifies it."

Their 'source' was Black, of course. If the man _was_ there and the intel was above reproach, then it would be a careful, complicated dance of giving the Task Force enough to think they'd almost caught the man while still allowing Black the chance to escape.

And Castle would have to do it - this time - alone.

* * *

Kate had just sunk into the warm bath when her cell phone vibrated on the side table. She groaned and closed her eyes, but she took a deep breath and gathered herself to reach for it.

Little Wolf liked the warm bath; James was stretching and moving around just like she wanted to do.

Instead she pressed her side against the bathtub and stretched for the phone, her fingers wriggling, her body off-balanced, until she could finally snag the edge of the case cover.

She nearly dropped it into the water and by that time voice mail had picked up. But she'd seen his face on the screen; it was Castle.

Kate called him back, settling her spine to the slope of the tub, closing her eyes as she rubbed the spot that James seemed to like to use as a soccer ball. "I don't mind," she told him softly, pressing her thumb into what had to be a little foot. He was upside down? "Keep kicking, little frog. Let's me know you're still there while Daddy is gone."

"Hey."

She laughed into the phone as Castle answered without prologue. "Hey, baby, you sound busy."

"Yeah," he grunted.

"You called me," she reminded him, rubbing softly over that little foot in her side.

"Yeah, sorry. Hang on a sec, love. I gotta-" He cut off; she could hear him talking to someone with the phone pressed against his chest.

She see in her head the picture he would make - the furious scowl to his face at being interrupted, the harsh cut of his wide shoulders and his hand dwarfing the black iphone. Hers was white, in the same sparkly white case he'd brought for her at Stone Farm, looking kind of shabby and worn now, but she wouldn't replace it.

James shivered inside her, making her gasp; she was always shocked by his little human movements, that reminder of growing an actual person.

Oh, great. And now he had the hiccups. Again.

Kate rubbed circles over the spot where she felt him pressing out, tried to soothe him into a regular pattern. "What do you need hiccups for, little wolf? You can't breathe yet."

"He's got the hiccups again?"

Castle's voice, rich and warm, came over the line again.

"Yeah," she sighed. "I think it's the change in temperature. He did it last time I had a bath."

"Oh, I see. You're in the bath. Trying to torment me, are you?"

"Mm, you know me."

He chuckled, but his mind didn't seem to be quite on their idle conversation.

"Castle. You called?"

"Oh. Yeah. I did. I'm at the airport. I have to - I have a flight out in forty-five minutes."

"What? I thought you it was just-"

"A flight home," he amended hastily. "Sorry. A flight home. But they have a location. It looks solid, Kate."

"I can ask first - our source."

"I know. And - I hate that you have to, but you'll have to ask."

Their source. She was the one Black communicated with, in case they got discovered. She'd be the one to go down for it. "The team isn't moving that fast on this new intel, though? If they're letting you come back."

"They are, actually. They're going out there ahead of me. I used you as an excuse to go home first. They've got a flight in three hours."

Shit. "Okay, can you.. give me something here?"

"No." Not on even their secure lines? Fine. She'd wait for him to get home and then they'd get in touch with Black, see if the intel was any good. She didn't like it either, but it was just how it had to be.

"Miss you," she told him instead. "Wolf misses your voice. And your warm hands."

Castle laughed softly, and she felt a hundred times better just for hearing it.

"Miss you too," he answered. "Especially in the bath."

* * *

When Castle finally got home, he found his wife downstairs on the Ugly Couch, still awake at two in the morning.

"Hiccups?" he asked, shutting the front door behind him, locking it.

She smiled from the couch. "Nope. Just not tired."

"Bullshit."

She laughed and put a finger in her book. "Wrong choice of words. Always tired. Just not sleepy."

"You missed me so hard, Beckett. Admit it."

Kate gave him a cool look, an arch of her eyebrow, but she tossed the book to the coffee table. "Did not."

"You so missed me."

"You were only gone for seventeen hours."

"Wow, you missed me so much, you know exactly how long I was gone. How many minutes?"

She scoffed, but her mouth softened. "Twenty-eight minutes."

He laughed - she had made that up; he _knew_ she'd made it up. "Oh, really?"

She hummed and held out both hands to him, fingers wriggling. "Mm, don't know. Help me up, super spy."

"You're ridiculous." He dropped his bag on the floor by the foot of the coffee table, sank down beside her. "Why in the world should you get up? Stay right here with me."

Kate laughed and hooked her arm around his neck, nuzzled her nose to his jaw before kissing him softly. "Not too long, sweetheart. I'm tired."

"Right."

"Did you get a location?" she whispered. Her mouth was against his ear and he nodded again, cupped the side of her face.

"France," he sighed. "A little town in Upper Normandy, along the coast."

"Oh?"

He stroked his thumb over her bottom lip, already resigned to what he had to do. "Honfleur, France. I... have to, Kate. I know."

She sighed. "We'll contact him first. And see. Okay? If he's not there, then you have a good excuse to beg off the team."

He rubbed his jaw against hers, felt the soft ends of her hair around him. It was so long now, and it came in waves down her back, curled at her face. He loved it. He loved her. His beautiful wife.

If Black _was_ in Normandy, then there would be nothing for it. He'd have to go, just to make sure the task force didn't kill the one man who could keep his wife, his son, his family alive.

"Hey," she murmured. "It's okay, baby. It's okay. Everything will be fine. I bet he's not even there."

* * *

She watched him pack with a heavy heart.

"France?" she questioned. It just didn't seem likely.

When Castle rubbed a hand down his face, Kate tried to soften her tone, reminded herself he was doing this for them.

"France," she said again. "It's a long way."

"I have a feeling he's there this time," Castle winced. "And if the team finds him before I do..."

"Right," she whispered. The baby was kicking her like crazy and she put a hand to her side to push an elbow back into place.

"Kate, if you'd rather let it go, leave it to chance-"

"No. We need him alive," she said. "He's already - helped us." She rubbed the elbow affectionately, willing James to find a new place to play. Her side was killing her; she felt bruised in there. "I wish he had just emailed me back."

"No word from him," Castle sighed. "You know I've got to follow through with the team. They've already got men in place, Kate. If he's not responded to your emails, then something is going on."

"France just seems so unlikely," she muttered again. James's foot was seriously beginning to drive her crazy. He was-

Oh. He was upside down. Still. No wonder her hips felt out of joint all the time.

"I wish you didn't have to go," she murmured, biting her bottom lip.

But Castle wasn't looking at her. He just growled and shoved another shirt into the duffle bag. "I hate it. I'd rather let them kill him. But I'm doing this for our family. For _you_."

"I know," she said quickly. And she didn't really mean to persuade him to stay. Not really. He had to go; Black had to survive if their _family_ was to survive. "I know you are. I just - it's so close. He's already shifted."

"Shifted?"

She pressed her lips together. "Down," she said shortly. Did he really want her to use the technical terms? Because it made it sound too clinical and cold and he _knew_ she hated that, the medical terminology turning her into a brood mare.

Castle stopped packing his bag and instead turned to her, placed his hands over hers at her belly. The kid immediately went still, the added heat or pressure of his father's hands making him pay attention. Of course.

"He'll wait for me," Castle said, dipping his mouth to hers and kissing her softly. "Won't he? You both will wait for me. It's still early yet."

She sighed. "I'm so seriously over being pregnant, Castle. I'm not adding any more time to this. If he comes early, then he comes early."

Castle laughed, but there was a desperation in his eyes that made her sick. He was doing this because of her; he was leaving them with only four weeks left before she was due because _Kate_ needed to know that Black was available if something went terribly wrong with the regimen.

And now that James might need that regimen one day, she had Castle on her side about this.

"I was joking," she told him quietly. "He won't come in the next few days. You won't be gone longer than a week, right?" Her due date had been revised a few times over the course of this pregnancy, neither Dennison nor Boyd could say exactly when. But four weeks early? No. Surely not. He was still so small, despite how big she felt.

"I shouldn't be more than a week. But, Kate. You're the most important thing in the world to me," he said roughly. "And you do whatever has to be done to keep you both healthy. If it happens without me..."

"Castle. You won't be gone longer than a handful of days," she repeated, almost a question. "It's recon - no more."

"A handful of days," he affirmed finally. "I should be back here by Tuesday. If we get Black, even sooner." Get Black out of there, he meant. She would keep trying to email the man, warn him Castle and the task force were on their way.

"Tuesday," she repeated.

Castle dipped his head and kissed the top of her stomach, rubbing his thumb over that elbow in her side. "Hey, James. Be good for your mom. I'll be back in time. Promise."

The baby kicked. He couldn't possibly have room to _roll_, but he became even more active at the sound of Castle's voice.

"Hey, Wolf. Calm down." He rubbed at those places where James liked to push on her the most and then he lifted his mouth to hers and kissed her again. "Tuesday, sweetheart. You be good too, Kate. I love you."

As always, it made her heart squeeze, that unspoken _because _which linked the two sentences. The inherent _don't do anything stupid while I'm gone_. Because he loved her, because it would hurt him if she was hurt.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and tried to come in close. She had to go up on her toes and angle her belly away, but they got there.

"Love you too." She nuzzled her nose under his jaw and breathed him in. "Good hunting."

"Stop by the Office, work on that mission we're going to run with Marin's brother," he said back. "I know you want to get it settled."

"I do," she laughed. Kate craved the work, but she was trying to be good about how much she pushed herself, this close to time. "I'll probably go in after you leave. Was that you giving me permission?"

"Love, no one can give you permission. You've always done what you want."

She laughed, and somehow she felt better about his leaving. They'd have done the task force together any other time, but that wasn't exactly feasible right now. She just hoped he was still on board with their deal, the deal they'd made with Black; she hoped he really would give his father the chance to run.

"We'll wait for you," she told him then. "James and I will wait. And you won't kill his grandfather."

Castle groaned, cursing even as he wrapped his arm around her neck. "You're killing _me._"

"We promised him, and you promised me. You always keep your promises, Castle."

"I'm keeping my promise," he muttered into her temple. "I'm keeping it."

She let out a breath and then laughed when James gave her a hard kick. "Ouch. See? Even James says to keep his grandfather alive. Might need him."

"Need you more," he said gruffly. "You hear me? Need you more."

She buried her face in his neck. "I hear you."


	3. Chapter 3

**Close Encounters 20**

* * *

Kate Beckett pressed her lips together and shook her head at her boys. They each deflated and sank back down into their chairs. The command center was mostly dark - they were the last of the daylight team still here. Third shift had come on nearly two hours ago.

She ended the call and placed her cell on top of her work station, pushing two fingers into her side. The baby had hiccuped all last night, and without Castle there to rub the small of her back and calm them both, she hadn't gotten much sleep. Little wolf was hiccuping again, making her stomach muscles clench in protest.

Castle's 'handful of days' had totaled three so far. Going on four, now that darkness had fallen and the moon had risen. Kate stared at her screen, the blinking and stationary dot on the map. Another movement from the baby shook her out of her trance.

Marin's brother had placed the bug all right, but nothing had come of it.

"Dead end," she sighed. "Is Mason back yet?"

"Yeah, he just got to his safe house in Berlin."

So the mission was over; it had failed. Nothing left for her to do here tonight. She could - and should - give it up. She hated admitting defeat, not when Marin's brother had been so thrilled to help. As an asset, he was maybe a little too eager, but his position was ideal.

These damn hiccups were-

Whoa, not - not hiccups.

Not hiccups. Oh, shit.

Kate let out a breath and pressed her palm flat to the side of her belly, realized just how far down the baby had shifted. Her hips ached. Not hiccups at all.

"Hey, uh, guys?" she winced. "I think I'm going to need someone to drive."

Ryan caught on first, his whole body jerking to attention, tripping over himself to get to her. "Boss?"

She sighed and pressed the heel of her hand into the hard muscle banding across her stomach, felt the ripple under her palm. And then it tightened, a definite clench. Her legs suddenly felt loose, like her hips were sliding out of socket. "Ryan. You volunteering for the hospital run?"

"Now?" Esposito yelped, standing up as well. "But you have four weeks. Or three and a half more weeks, I guess, but still, Beckett, this is not funny."

"I'm not laughing," she grit out.

"Boss, what can I do?"

"Just - drive me. I'll call Dennison. And Castle. You'll have to - ouch - you'll have to find him a flight back, Ry. I'm not sure this can wait."

"_W__ait_?" Ryan squeaked. "You can't wait. We're going, going now."

She breathed through the sharp frustration of not having Castle, and then she let it go.

Nothing to be done.

The baby was coming; she needed to focus on that. Everything else - Black, the task force - was nothing in comparison to Castle getting back here in time.

* * *

He felt the vibration of his phone again as he stood in the belly of the plane still on the runway, a private airfield in Saint Cyr. They were waiting for clearances. Castle tugged the straps of his parachute and tested their strength, ignoring his phone as he went through his pre-jump checklist one more time. He could taste metal in his mouth - like blood - but the plane had only just shut the doors. He usually only had that taste when they had reached jumping altitude, not when they were still on the ground.

Anticipation. Adrenaline.

Once more his phone vibrated, but their team was supposed to be dark. He was technically breaking some serious chain of command by bringing the burner phone with him, and he'd have to check it when he didn't have an entire team huddled on a plane about to take off.

They were dropping into the French countryside tonight, like some kind of WW2 Ranger unit. Castle still hadn't managed to get in touch with Black, and he didn't like not knowing what he was up against.

The mission leader clapped him on the shoulder and jerked his head towards the pilot.

Castle shook his head, not understanding, and the man leaned in close, shouted at his ear which was covered by the helmet. "Cockpit has a call for you."

A call?

"Oh, fuck," he whispered, already shoving through guys to reach the front. He pushed aside even Reynolds, who'd gotten himself assigned to the task force (probably at Beckett's request), and he burst forward, found the pilot already gesturing him towards the radio.

"Here. From New York."

"Oh, shit," he groaned, ripping off his jump helmet and cradling the headset against his ear. Supposed to have _four weeks._ "Beckett?"

"Yeah, love." Her voice sounded exhausted, weary in a bone deep way that made his guts tighten. She was breathing roughly. "I need you to come home. Time."

Oh, God. "I'm eleven hours from you, Kate. Can you - am I going to make it?"

"Not sure. Yes? Yes, you're going to make it."

"I'll make it, Kate. I promised you - I'm getting off the plane right now."

"I think that's a good idea," she said tightly.

"Hey, hey, you're fine, it's fine. Even if - just stay healthy. Okay? You do what you need to do. Whatever you need to do. I love you, Kate."

He heard her faint response but he was already pushing the headset back into the co-pilot's hands. Reynolds was at his back and he took one look at Castle's face and turned around, shoving his way towards the exit.

But Agent Denver was standing in his way, bristling.

"I'm getting off," Castle said hoarsely to the team leader. "Unseal the door. I'm getting off."

For a moment, absolutely no one moved. Reynolds hesitated at the door, his eyes darting back to Castle. The team leader opened his mouth, fury racing across his face at the interruption. Castle closed his eyes, his hands shaking.

Kate was in labor.

"You heard him," Reynolds barked. "We're getting off. Now _move._"

* * *

Eleven hours later, Rick Castle's knee bounced in time to the erratic jump of his pulse.

"Stop that, will you?" Mitchell muttered. "You're driving me nuts."

"You just keep _driving_," Castle shot back, but he did try. "I'll do whatever the hell you want, just drive."

Mitch sighed, but he'd been on the ground in New York on a private security thing, and Reynolds had been the one to rope the man into chauffeur service.

Castle only called her phone again, praying she'd pick up. He cursed when he got her voice mail and then he pinched the bridge of his nose, tried to think this through.

"Hey man," Mitch tried. "I bet they're all just - you know - in there with her."

"They better not be fucking _in there_ with my wife."

"Aw, shit. That's not what I meant."

He didn't think _in there_ was a good thing. In there with his wife sounded like an emergency, sounded like something had happened to her, and the fact that he couldn't reach any of them - Kate, Espo, Ryan, Carrie - meant his imagination was working overtime. He didn't dare call Dr Dennison; he wanted her to be absolutely focused on his wife, not answering a phone call.

"Oh, shit. I know," he growled at himself. He hit the contact and waited breathlessly while it rang-

"Finally."

Castle let out an explosive breath. "Jim. Jim, what's going on? I can't get anyone-"

"You can't get anyone? They're all here - oh, I know. I'm in the waiting room. Javier and Kevin are all in the room with her. They make you turn off your phone past the little double doors."

"Is she okay? What's going on?"

"She's fine. Having contractions, but she's - uh - well, you know Kate. She's pretty much refusing to go into labor. They've got her attached to a heart monitor and you can hear his heart beating, strong and fast. They said if he goes into distress, they'll have to induce. But right now - Kate's - fighting it off."

He gritted his teeth and bowed his head forward, relief trickling through him like an icy rivulet. He didn't want to miss it, but he didn't want them _hurt _by it either. "Jim. I - thank you. I'm - will you tell Kate that I just landed in New York? We're on our way. Tell her not to be stupid," he rasped.

Jim chuckled. "I'll try. The last I heard from Dr Dennison, she was saying any time now, so... the faster the better, son."

"Yes, sir," he croaked.

Strong heartbeat, he'd said. Not in distress.

Suddenly, Castle was so fucking grateful for those pills she'd been taking every day. Made his son strong.

* * *

It was fine, it was teeth-gritting, but it was fine.

And then her water broke.

God, no.

_Come on, little wolf, work with me._

Kate pressed her fists into the mattress and staved off the frustrated growl. Of course now, now it would happen. Her dad had said Castle had _just _landed. She'd been in labor for eleven hours, and she was _not_ going to let him down now.

Eleven hours. She could hold out twenty more minutes.

Oh, ouch. Fuck.

"Hear me, kid?" she muttered, closing her eyes, pressing her lips together to breathe. The contraction finally eased, her muscles rippling and contorting, and Kate eased back against the bed, opened her eyes. The nurses had already pushed everyone out of the room and were cleaning things up, changing the sheets before she knew what had happened.

Her water had broken and now contractions were four minutes apart.

She couldn't remember how far she was dilated; she had stopped listening. But it was not good. Dr Dennison wasn't going to let her hold out any longer.

She had to; she had to. She was _not_ doing this without-

"I heard you've been fighting them all off."

Oh, thank you, God.

Kate turned her head and there he was - her husband - striding into the room. She held her hand out to him, her heart thrashing and stumbling as he smiled at her. His fingers laced through hers and he sank his elbows into the mattress, his eyes brilliantly blue as he came in to kiss her, mouth so soft and reverent and good.

"Fighting them off?" she husked. Not at all what she wanted to say, but she didn't think any of the real and honest and raw stuff could come out of her mouth right now. She'd break apart.

"Dr Dennison scolded me for being late. She said you've been stubborn and it's my fault."

Kate's mouth twisted into what she hoped was a smile. "It is your fault. You - for some reason - were on a plane in France when your son wanted to arrive."

"We'd already geared up," he murmured. He leaned over her and pressed his lips to her forehead, breathing out against her skin. "You taste like hard work, Beckett. You been running a race?"

"Oh, shut up. I hate you," she laughed, the sound tumbling out of her.

And that's what did it. The laughter broke her concentration and the tight control over her muscles, and her contractions started in earnest, violent and seizing. She felt something pop in her hips and then the monitor went off. Castle startled with a curse and the door flew open, and there wasn't time to say anything past the deep urge to push.

Dr Dennison was all-business and brusque, pulling on a gown, new gloves, and snapping a direction to one of the nurses who had followed her inside. "Kate. Katherine. Look at me. We're doing this now. We can't wait."

"Finally," she got out, blinking hard against the intensity of the contraction.

Castle was staring at her, absolutely stricken. "Oh, God. We're having a baby."

"Little late for that," she growled.

* * *

"The attending agrees," Dr Dennison told them quietly. Castle heard her - and didn't hear her - as the doctor explained; he was too busy holding his son. "No need for the NICU. Honestly, he's a little small but he's showing none of the concerns of a premature baby."

His perfect son. Eyes open, watching his father, unconcerned and trusting - almost knowing. Wise little face on such a small body. Castle glanced to Kate and she beamed back at him, her eyes watering and her hand shaky as she swiped at her cheeks.

Yeah. Yeah, his eyes were wet too. He kept looking down at his son and it would build up and he'd have to look up again, but then he'd see Kate and how she was looking at them and it would be a near thing. It was a tightness in his throat that he couldn't find a way to speak past.

Kate lifted a hand and hooked her fingers in the crook of his arm, bringing them both to her. He sank down on the bed at her shoulder, trying to be so careful.

James had given one short, mewling cry when he'd been born, a few startled noises as he'd been given his Apgar and cleaned up, but so far the boy had been quiet with them in the room. He wouldn't be going to the nursery, wouldn't be leaving their sight, so at least he seemed settled with them - and a little worn out.

Rick shifted on the bed with Kate, lowering his cradled arms to make sure she could see the baby too. Share him. He had Kate's face, he thought, with dark wisps of hair, and eyes that were still newborn dark. A fist up near his chin, immeasurably small nails on those thin fingers.

Such tiny little fingernails. It seemed impossible.

Dennison was still talking. "His lungs are fully-formed, he's keeping a stable temperature. I'll come back in an hour to check on you guys, make sure he's feeding okay."

He was yawning. Oh, God. Look at that. He yawned and stretched and the movement in Castle's arms was so much like the kicks and bumps he'd felt with hands over Kate's belly that it suddenly made everything so real.

"Rick."

He lifted his head at Kate's call, saw the amusement flicker across her face even as Dr Dennison slipped out the door. Kate lifted her hand and stroked her fingers along the back of the baby's head; she still had the saline IV in her vein. No drugs during labor, but Dennison had insisted on the fluids afterwards, wanting to be sure Kate recovered.

"Rick," she said again, her fingers curling over his thumb at their baby's head. "We need to file the birth certificate. Make him official."

"Yeah," he admitted. His son wouldn't be a shadow. "You think of a good name?" he said, joking with her.

She chuckled, but she still sounded tired. "I think we know his name, don't we?"

"Yeah," he grinned. "We do. But his middle name?"

"Are we doing a middle name?" she murmured. "I - actually, have we decided on his last name?"

"He needs his mother's name," he said again. "He should-"

"He needs his father's name," she answered. "I don't care which one, but officially - the cover we married under - is Rodgers."

"Yeah, but it's a cover," he muttered.

"Not to us," she said quietly. "It's your family's name." Her fingers spread out over their son's head and he dropped his gaze back to the baby. Dark eyes just hours-old, but already Castle could practically _watch_ the color lighten to that newborn blue.

The boy stirred, that fist opening up under his chin; he startled when his own fingers nudged his mouth, and his eyes flared upwards as they laughed down at him. It looked like that little hand was stuck under his chin in the curve of his neck.

"Need some help?" Kate murmured, hooking her finger under the boy's fist and tugging it free. "There you go. All better. You got room now, baby. You don't have to be squished up so tight."

Castle lifted his eyes to her and watched her a moment, the regard on her face as she rubbed her thumb over the baby's fist. "Okay," he said finally. "Eleven hours. Rodgers it is."

Kate laughed softly, richly, and leaned her head against his shoulder, threading her arm through his and over the baby's belly. "Eleven hours means I'm always gonna get my way, doesn't it? This is going to be fun."

"Don't you anyway?" he sighed. His throat was a tight knot that hadn't yet released, not even after his son's first breaths. "Give you anything you want, love."

"Mm, I know," she murmured. Her kiss was soft against his chin, like she knew she should be careful with him. "How about Beckett for his middle name, then?" She dropped her chin to his shoulder, squeezed his arm with her own. "A compromise."

"Compromise," he murmured. "Look at you, compromising. Dr King would be so proud."

"Shut up," she chuckled. "I can compromise."

"Apparently you can," he laughed. She looked so tired, but also so radiant. How did she do that? He felt wrung out just bearing witness. "I'm kind of in awe of you, Beckett. So you could tell me you wanted to name him Ivan and I'd be okay with it."

Kate wrinkled her nose, digging her chin into the top of his shoulder. "You agree though?"

"With Beckett? Yeah." He dropped his gaze to their son, felt the soft and warm weight in his arms, felt Kate at his side, heavy and tired and close. "Welcome to the world, James Beckett Rodgers."

The baby's eyes slipped closed.

Kate hummed again, those content noises that vibrated through his bones as she laid against his shoulder. "He looks singularly underwhelmed."

"I think it's because he's known his name for months now," Castle admitted. "Haven't you, James? Little wolf. You're so lucky you're not a girl."

* * *

Kate felt awareness tug the edges of her eyelids and then she was somewhat awake in the darkness, the soft rustle confusing her.

"Hey, it's okay," he said quietly. "I got him."

She blinked and reached for the bedside table, the pills she was supposed to take, needing that boost if she was going to at all functioning for-

Oh.

No, wait. Wait. It was all done.

"I got him. Are you good?"

Kate opened her eyes, sat up in the bed on the realization that she was in the hospital. And Castle was cradling the baby against his chest, the baby mewling like a cub.

There were no pills. No more pills now at all because here he was. He was right here and making those little noises as he looked for her.

"Yeah," she husked, holding out her arms. "Yeah, I'm good. I'm awake."

Castle smiled and leaned in, handing the baby over to her, the transition a little awkward as they both tried to keep his head stable, tried to be careful. The baby was so floppy. God, that was a terrible thing to think, wasn't it? Loose and bendy and soft in ways that scared her.

But James opened his eyes and blinked up at her, the thin wash of light from the bathroom spilling out and just touching his face. He looked content now that he was here, perfectly content to have her as his mother.

"Hey, baby," she murmured, touched by the confidence.

Castle sank down beside her on the mattress, stroking the top of James's head with two fingers. She stared down at her son, touched the tip of his nose with a finger, and James puckered his mouth and gave a cry.

They laughed. Castle grunted as if to try and stop his laughter, while Kate turned her head to smother her amusement against her husband's shoulder.

"We probably shouldn't laugh at him when he's hungry," Castle whispered.

"Maybe not," she chuckled, tilting her head up to look at him. Castle grinned down and kissed her quickly, stroked the hair back behind her ear.

"Not too bad, so far," he offered. "Huh?"

"Not too bad," she admitted. "I was pretty deep asleep, but I guess you heard him?"

"I heard him," he said. "You still tired?"

"Yeah."

James fussed in her arms and Kate laughed again, turned her attention back to him. "Sorry, sorry, baby. We're getting there."

"Do you need help or...?"

"No, I guess not. Sorry, kind of a one-man job."

Castle winced; he actually looked disappointed. Kate shifted, so tired that she found her eyes glancing towards the bedside table again for those pills. Castle put a hand under the baby's head as she adjusted her shirt. She fumbled, blinking through the heavy weight of sleep and moonlight, tried to figure out what this feeling was, needing the reassurance of a bottle of pills.

"Hey, Kate?"

"I got it," she muttered, concentrating on James again.

The baby was staring up at her, waiting and expectant, and that swirl of need she always had in the morning was being slowly subsumed by James's fingers opening against her chest.

It only took a moment this time, much faster than before. James rooted against her and latched on without any help, and the sensation tugged Kate back to herself and the moment. The baby nursing and her husband pressed at her side, both of them a little sleep-stunned.

She didn't need those pills; she needed this - their son in her arms, trusting her, and this man who would always find his way to her side when she needed him.

Castle let out a slow breath, cupped the back of James's skull with his palm. He dipped low and kissed the baby's forehead.

"This is amazing," he murmured. "I never understood... it's just amazing."

Kate shifted her gaze to Castle and their eyes met over the boy.

It was the whole world.

* * *

Castle held the baby against his shoulder, lips pressed against the boy's head as he walked. He even _smelled_ small and fragile, a precious thing. James settled down finally and drifted off to sleep again, his cheek mashed against Castle's shirt.

He opened the hospital room door and slipped back inside, glad he'd managed to quiet the baby so that Kate could sleep.

He curled his fingers around James's head and lowered the boy back to the bassinet in the room, slowly slid his arm out from under the baby. He kept being surprised by just how small, how tiny the kid was. His palm laid over the boy's body, practically engulfing him, and he hovered there, watching him sleep.

He had long lashes. Like Kate's. They settled on his shadowy cheeks and made him look _pretty_. His hair was dark, a soft tuft of it right on top that kept sticking up like a little mohawk. Castle lightly brushed two fingers over the boy's skull to brush it down. James's mouth worked and Castle froze, barely daring to breathe until the boy settled back to sleep.

A soft knock sounded on the door and Castle straightened up, heading back to open it. Jim stood on the other side, grinning, a stuffed animal with a blue bow in his hand - looked like a hippo.

"Hey there," Jim said. "Can I-?"

"Of course," Castle rushed out, grabbing Jim by the shoulder and tugging him into a hug. "And the hippo. Nice touch."

Jim chuckled and hugged him back, thumping his back. "Congratulations, Rick. Welcome to the club."

"Congrats to you too, Grandpa," Castle grinned. "Come on inside. They're both asleep."

"Thought that might the case." Jim passed him and headed straight for the bassinet, gazing in at the boy. "He looks like Kate did as a newborn."

"Yeah? I think he looks like her too."

Jim grinned, glancing back over his shoulder at Castle. "Only a day old. He might look more like you in time."

Castle shook his head. "I don't mind. He might do better in life looking like Kate." He crossed his arms and went to the window, put his back to the warm sunlight, trying to keep from picking up his son again, holding him all day. "Glad you came, Jim."

"Thought I might spell you a while. Give you a chance to get stuff done, since you haven't had a chance to go home."

"Ah." Castle rubbed his jaw. "Good point. Kate doesn't even have her bag here. I should probably get stuff."

But he hated to leave her before she woke. He hated to leave at all. Kate was just... shit, he was a mess, really. He was a ragged knot of nerves and euphoria, and he probably should leave just so that he could get himself together.

Yeah, and Kate needed her sleep. "Good idea," he sighed. "So. You're on duty then, I guess."

"Don't worry. Javier is still right outside. And I saw one of the others - I think a guy named Mitchell?"

"Oh, yeah, Mitch," Castle smiled. "Good. They're keeping an eye on things for us."

"Security system, right?"

Castle winced but Jim was just shaking his head.

"No need to explain. I get it. That's what happens when you're a new parent," Jim said softly. "Everything looks dangerous. Everything is so new and fragile. You barely want to breathe wrong."

Castle sank back against the window sill. "Yeah," he rasped, nodding. "That's - yeah."

"And with the work you two do, I'm sure it makes the whole thing worse."

"Yeah," Castle croaked. And his father. Whereabouts unknown.

"It will ease. That feeling. I promise. You get more confident about your ability to handle things. Just like holding the baby is strange at first, and you keep worrying you're gonna drop him. But you don't. And his head might flop around a little, but it's really okay."

Castle let out a breath, gave Jim a weak grin. "Thanks. I needed to hear that."

"So - go. Do. Whatever it is you need to get done. I'll hold the fort. And my grandson." Jim winked and tossed him the hippo. Castle caught it reflexively, shook his head at the grinning grey beast. Of _course_, Jim had gotten the baby this. Kate had made him tell that story at least twice to her father. He'd left out the part about her nearly being struck by lightning.

Shit.

Castle stood up, rubbing a hand down his jaw. He should go. He should. His brain was jumping from one thing to another, and he had things at home to take care of. And gifts of his own - no hippos - that Kate absolutely deserved.

But it was difficult to leave.

"Go, Rick. They'll be here when you get back."

Yeah. Yeah, he was going.

One last look at his son.


	4. Chapter 4

**Close Encounters 20**

* * *

Kate woke to whispering, confused by the harsh abrasion of the sheet under her cheek and the light streaming through the window.

But when she opened her eyes, she saw her father sitting beside the bed, his head ducked down over the baby in his arms.

"Dad," she tried, found her voice caught in the rough edges.

Her father looked up, the smile he'd had for the baby now illuminating her, and she hadn't seen that kind of joy on her dad's face since before her mother had died.

"Katie," he whispered. "You did good."

She laughed, lifting her head as she swiped at the moisture swimming in her eyes. And of course, her laughter caused the baby to mewl, having heard her voice and already certain of who fed him.

"Give him over," Kate demanded, holding out her hands.

Her father rose from the chair in the sunlight to stand before her, the baby passed a little more easily between them than it had last night in the heavy dark. James's eyes were open and he was looking for her, she thought, that tiny fist up near his chin. It was becoming characteristic.

"I brought him a hippo," her father said, rather incongruously. Kate glanced up and saw her dad was turning his back on them, heading for the bassinet, and she realized he was trying to give her privacy. It was sweet. Entirely too late, but sweet. After giving birth, there was very little sense of privacy left.

"A hippo," she echoed, allowing him to wander away. James was already right there, nursing without hesitation, that fist opening and brushing against her skin in a way that made her breath catch.

"Rick thought it was funny." He sounded a little defensive.

Kate leaned over and snagged one of the baby blankets they seemed to have in abundance, adjusted it over and around her and James. "Okay, Dad. No need to avert your eyes."

Her father turned; she saw the wince, but he smiled when he saw them. "It's beautiful, isn't it? I remember when your mother would nurse you. You would stare up at us. It was quite overwhelming."

Kate wasn't sure she could handle that, the lack of her mother and her father's memories in the midst of her own son's touch, but she took a breath and glanced down, getting it back together.

"Rick went to get some stuff from home," her dad said, not even commenting about the tears.

She swiped her thumb over her cheek and dried it on the blanket, lifted her head to her dad again. "Thanks. And for the hippo. That's cute."

He smiled. "You tired? Need anything?"

"Coffee," she sighed, saw his face. "No, I know. I'll survive-"

"I can find some decaf," he offered.

"Oh, decaf," she murmured. Something about the taste. Or maybe it was not having the pills - and she knew that was a little scary, the addictive personality that she was, the need manifesting itself - maybe withdrawal.

She wasn't doing that to her son. To Castle. She was fine.

"I'll go get you a cup," her father said. "Even decaf. Congratulations, sweetheart." He came forward and leaned in, kissing her cheek with a brush of his hand along her shoulder. He was gentle, as if he expected something to break, but he cupped his hand at the back of James's skull, swallowed an obvious lump in his throat.

"Thanks, Dad. He's totally worth it," she smiled.

"I remember that feeling," her father said back, lifting a smile to her. His eyes were shiny too, and she laughed a little helplessly.

"Dad, if you start crying, I'm going to lose it."

He laughed then too, a little rough-sounding but the amusement was good for them both. It made James open his eyes, and his mouth, turning his head to seek out the sound. Kate nudged his cheek to get him back to it, but James seemed reluctant when something interesting was going on over his head.

Her father cleared his throat and softly cuffed James's ear. "I'll leave you to it. Be back in a few minutes. James."

Her father said the name like it had weight, ceremonially, a formal good-bye. Kate caught her dad's hand and squeezed as he left the bed.

When the door had shut behind him, Kate looked down at her son. He was still distracted, searching for the sounds, eyes curious and rather grey, like winter. Smooth cheeks, a chin that made his face look narrower than it was, and tucked up under his neck was that little fist.

Kate smiled and reached in, tugged until the fingers released and curled around her thumb. She leaned in over him and kissed his hand, her hair falling forward and brushing his arm, the top of his head. He startled, eyes so wide, staring up at her.

"You need to eat, James," she murmured softly. So softly. Everything seemed precious.

She lifted a finger from his little hand and stroked his cheek, and the rooting instinct took over, turning James's mouth to her again, a little sigh of contentment as he settled.

She definitely had to stop crying before her father got back with that coffee.

* * *

"I can't believe you brought me potato cakes," she grinned up at him. He leaned in and dropped the bag on her bed and she hooked her arm around his neck and kissed him for it.

"Eleven hours," he said, nudging her nose with his. Her laughter cut through her attempts at a second kiss, and she was grinning even wider when he pulled back. He nudged the bag; it'd been brutal leaving her in the hospital, but at least he could bring her presents.

Ryan had gone out to get the potato cakes, really, but Castle had added in a few surprises that he'd brought from home, things he'd squirreled away over the last nine months, gifts he wanted her to have. Those _thanks for letting me knock you up _gifts. What had she said about him? He was melodramatic like Martha?

Yeah, he might be, but Kate Beckett had been in labor for eleven hours, waiting on him to arrive, had carried his son safely for nine months, had fought through hell for them. He thought that demanded some recognition.

Kate had one hand on the clear-sided bassinet, but she had her eyes on him, as if she was filling herself up with him. He knew the feeling; he couldn't stop watching her, watching her with their son, just how amazing it was to be here.

Castle cleared his throat. "Where's your dad?"

"Oh, he left when Reynolds and Mitch came in to see the baby. He said to tell you bye."

"You see the hippo?"

"Yeah," she laughed, nodding her head. He turned and saw she'd propped it up in the window, along with the huge blue teddy bear from Lanie and the flowers from the boys.

Castle turned back and flicked the bag, trying to tone down his own reaction, trying not to ruin his surprise. "Breakfast, love."

To keep from hovering, he moved to the bassinet and leaned in over the plastic side, laid his hand over the sleeping boy - just a quick look, reassure himself James was still there. The baby had long fingers; he'd never seen such long fingers for a thing his size. He kept tucking that fist up under his chin, making him look rather wise.

"What's this?" she said from behind him.

He glanced back at her and came to sit on the mattress, suppressing his enthusiasm. She had already reached inside the white, grease-stained bag and was pulling out the black velvet box from under the package of potato cakes.

"Open it," he shrugged, probably not as casually as he'd hoped. She was giving him a narrow look.

He leaned in and braced himself on his palm beside her knees, laid his free hand on her thigh. She'd changed into leggings and a loose t-shirt, no make-up, her hair curling around her ears. She looked young and tired at the same time, and she was turning the box around and around in her fingers, biting her bottom lip.

"You bought me jewelry?"

"Eleven hours, babe. Of course I bought you jewelry."

"Is that going to be your answer for everything?"

"Pretty much. Come on, open it. I wanna see if you like it."

She smiled at him, her lips curling kinda shy and sweet so that it was going to break his heart, and then she flipped open the velvet box. Her indrawn breath was a good sign, but he didn't know what the laughter meant. "Oh, Castle. Um, this is adorable."

He leaned in and kissed her cheek. "There's more."

She was lifting her eyebrow at him, but she reached into the velvet lined box and tugged the pendant out on its simple chain. It was a circle of brass with a smaller circle of silver hammered over it, and the stencil cut out in the silver showed a brass wolf print. It had reminded him of the saints and martyrs medallions in Russia; the horse ranching brothers had both been wearing those pendants.

Now Kate had one of the wolf, their own kind of patron saint.

"For our wolf," he smiled at her. She rubbed her thumb over the metal and he saw it on her face, saw how the memory of Russia came back to her too. They'd survived and had made it to now, to here, this place with their son - and no small amount of help, divine or otherwise.

"There's more," Castle whispered, nudging the bag again.

"I felt something under my box of potato cakes," she murmured, lifting her head to him. "You hid something else in there?"

"Take a look," he muttered. He felt his ears burning with it. She had the wolf medallion cupped in one hand as she dove back into the white bag, and now she gave him a wolf-like smile as her fingers withdrew the black journal.

"This is my elephant story," she grinned. "The smallest of the herd. I love that story, Rick."

"I - uh - open it," he said, shifting his eyes to the baby, away from her.

"Oh my God," she whispered. She had opened the cover, flipped past the first few pages where that original story was written. He lifted his head and saw she'd found the rest of it. "Did you write me something?"

"I did," he said softly. "A few things. A lot of things, stories as we've gone along, the big events. For him or... uh, for you, for our family."

That day he'd nearly lost them both - before he'd even known he'd had the boy to lose - after everything was over, he'd written it down because he had to get it out of him. Bracken shot dead and the way she'd clung to him and said, _the baby_. He hadn't been able to tell her how it had been; it had been too raw. He'd opened up the black, pocket-sized journal and he'd gotten it all out in a story. It wasn't a letter like the others, it wasn't addressed to her, it was just a _story_ about the tiny elephant and his parents and how they lived together.

"God," she whispered. She was already reading it; he couldn't watch. It killed him to see her face as she read his words. It was worse than a letter because this had something more in it, something other than how he felt about her which was always so evident anyway.

Castle was grateful there was still more - he had another gift - because it gave him something to do other than watch her read. It'd take her some time because he'd written a handful of stories, an elephant, a wolf, a jungle parasite, even a kicking frog, and so he stood up and headed for the bassinet.

Castle laid his hand over the baby's stomach and was rewarded with the squirm of James waking slowly, soft noises as he stretched. Castle carefully slid his hands under the boy and picked him up, cradling him - baby elephant, little wolf, jungle parasite all.

"Hey, James Beckett," he said softly. The baby shifted and his eyes opened, slow blinks that seemed to take in the world piece by piece. He didn't fuss, merely observed, fingers under his chin. "Hey, there. You awake for me?"

James yawned in response. Castle carefully shifted the baby to one arm, able to hold James along his forearm with his head in the crook of his elbow. He used his free hand to dig into his back pocket and pulled out the other present.

"Hush, my man," he murmured to the baby. He unfurled James's little fingers and slipped the gift over those tiny digits, his mouth dry at just how small his son was in his arms.

From the bed, he heard the rustle of the sheets, the close of the journal. "I love it," she said roughly. "I love them. Castle."

He turned with the baby and saw she'd pressed the black leather to her chest. His heart was thumping; it was ridiculous how much it meant, having her read all of that. "You can put whatever you want in the other pages."

"No, just this," she murmured. "Only your stories. And those little pictures you drew, oh, Rick. Thank you."

"What're you thanking me for?" he husked. He'd told himself he wasn't going to cry. "Even without the eleven hours, Kate, I think you've got it backwards."

"They're like - children's stories," she said, her hands still holding the journal. "We can read them to James, and he'll know. He'll know - us - everything. It's perfect."

Was it possible to be mortally embarrassed? Could he die of this feeling? She loved the stories, and he'd been crippled with anxiety over them, unable to show them to her for months and months until now. And she had a suspicious shine to her eyes.

"Sit with me," she said then. She cleared her throat, shook her head once, and shifted over in the bed. "Both of you."

Just what he wanted most. Castle sank into the bed and pressed in close to her, softly kissed her cheek. "Look at him," he murmured.

"He's-" Kate choked off.

He grinned and pulled back to see her face, saw the stunned and flushed pleasure suffuse her cheeks.

"Castle," she gasped.

"The medallion is memory, and the journal is my heart. But this is what eleven hours means to me. This is what _waiting_ for me means."

"Holy shit," she croaked, reaching for James's little hand.

Kate pushed open the small fist and took the necklace from the boy, unlooping it from his fingers, her eyes darting from the blue garnet to his face and back.

He cleared his throat. "It's also thanks for nine months-"

She pressed her fingers to his mouth, the pendant caught on her knuckle. "No, don't thank me like it can be bought. Celebrate nine months of working together, celebrate this human being we made - together - our gift."

His lips spread, kissing her fingers, and he caught her hand and brought it down, untangled the silver chain from her fingers. It matched her wedding ring, and it had been a bitch to find - blue garnets were rare - but it was a roughly-shaped teardrop in a simple setting of small diamonds, nothing to detract from the smoky, color-changing gem. He turned her palm to his mouth and dusted a longer kiss at the inside of her wrist, and then he unclasped the pendant and drew it around her neck.

Her fingers lifted to touch it as she watched him fasten it at her nape. It hung high above her breasts, out of the way of the baby but not catching on her collarbone, nestled in that perfect slope.

"This is expensive," she murmured. Her eyes were a glimmering brown, just as smoky as the garnet around her throat. "Rick, I looked them up after your mother told me. I thought it was a sapphire, but it's a blue garnet and they're very expensive."

"You made - _we_ - made a kid," he murmured. "Kate, like you said - it's a celebration. We have a whole new person in our little family."

She laughed then, airy and breathless, and her fingers curled around his gift. She leaned in and touched her lips to his even as she spoke. "This is - more than I hoped for - with us. Rick. I..."

He knew. It struck him like that too.

"I love you," he said into her silence. She only nodded and pressed her face into his neck, curling around his body, cradling the baby with her drawn up thighs.

* * *

Kate fingered the pendant, playing with the slide of the blue garnet back and forth on the chain. Castle was sitting beside her on the bed while Jenny held the baby. Carrie had looked in at him in the bassinet when she'd arrived, but she sat beside Jenny now on the low bench in front of the window, the two of them commenting about James.

Kate leaned in against Castle's shoulder and he put his arm around her, squeezing. "You okay?"

"Little tired," she admitted. "Look at him. He's a hit."

Castle chuckled. "He's a hit alright. Though Carrie refuses to hold him."

"I'm not a baby person," Carried defended from the bench. Kate laughed and waved her off.

"It's fine. You don't have to."

"When he's older, I'll be the cool aunt," Carried promised. "He can come to my house and sleep over; I'll make him feed the chickens and collect the eggs."

"You have chickens?" Kate gasped.

"Just got them," Carried answered, wrinkling her nose. "They're kinda driving me crazy. I have a rooster too. He's a punk. Reminds me of you, Richard."

Kate laughed, harder when Castle pouted beside her, really hamming it up, and Carrie wriggled her fingers at them. The baby waved a fist and Carrie's attention was drawn back to the boy, now her fingers wriggling in James's face.

"Did he smile?" Carrie said. "Oh, he looks like he's smiling."

"They don't smile this early," Jenny sighed. "But he's still pretty cute."

Kate grinned and looked up at Castle; he was looking at her. "Pretty cute," she repeated.

"We made a cute kid," he said, leaning in to kiss her cheek. "Didn't we?"

"Looks like we did."

Castle rubbed his hand up and down her arm. "You cold?"

"No?" But she realized she had goose bumps suddenly, and the chill rushed over her. "Maybe so. Air conditioner just came on in here, I think."

"Yeah, I can hear it running," he replied. Castle leaned forward and dragged the blanket up the bed, pulled it around her. "That better?"

She tugged the scratchy material across her lap and shrugged at him. "I'm okay. Just a chill, I guess." She nudged Castle's arm and he took the hint, wrapping it around her shoulders again and pulling her against his side.

As always, he was nice and warm, giving off heat. She turned into him and laid her cheek against his soft t-shirt, the cotton smelling like their laundry.

"You should sleep if you're tired, Kate."

She nodded, thinking maybe that might be a good idea. She curled her arm around Castle's torso, letting her eyes close.

She could hear Jenny cooing over the baby, Carrie's low laughter. She could hear Castle's heartbeat under her ear, the slow and regular thump as he breathed. It was always reassuring, comforting, the strength of his body.

She fell asleep thinking about the work of his heart for her.

* * *

Castle had just sunk down on the bed with James when the door came open and Jim entered. Castle grinned at the older man and stood back up. "Come on in. You want to hold him?"

"I can't get enough of him," Jim smiled, taking the baby from his arms. "Hey, kid. Haven't seen you in a few hours. What's new?"

Castle chuckled and moved back to the bed; Kate patted the mattress and he sat with her, pulling his knee up. She broke apart one of the leftover potato cakes, and he took it from her, glad to see the color had come back to her cheeks after her nap.

"You think he'll show up?" Kate said then.

Castle hunched his shoulders and stared at the boy in his grandfather's arms. Hopefully the only grandfather he'd ever know.

"I don't know."

"Are you scared?"

"Aren't you?"

"No," she insisted. "I'm not afraid of him. I think he wants the same thing; he just - goes about it differently."

Castle didn't think so. "Mitch and Espo are outside your room 24/7 until we leave tomorrow." He stared at the boy in Jim's arms, heart constricting.

He felt Kate move beside him and he turned his head to her, nearly drowned in the dark eyes of his wife. She lifted her hand and touched his cheek, her fingers oily from the latke, and she softly kissed him.

"We're going to be just fine. I know it."

Well, he didn't.

But he wanted to believe.

Kate suddenly yawned, her mouth opening wide and her hand coming up to cover it. He chuckled and she shook her head, her hair tumbling out of the bun and falling down around her face. Castle pushed it back softly. "Tired, babe?"

"Yeah," she laughed. "Guess I still am."

"You had a hard day yesterday," he said, nudging her side. She shifted and leaned against him; they had barely separated all day, wanting close, stuck at each other's sides.

Castle touched the inside of her arm with his fingertips, stroking softly up and down. Her skin was cool and lovely, pale in the overhead light; he could trace the vein up to the crook of her elbow.

"Mm, feels good," she whispered, just for him.

"Yeah?" He lightly ran his finger back down to wrist, into the cup of her palm. "Good."

She leaned against him, pressed her lips to his shoulder.

Castle trailed his fingers along her palm and opened her hand, loosening her up, and then he dragged his touch back up her arm.

Kate made a soft noise and her eyes flew up to his, hungry and dark. He stared down at her, his heart kicking up and his hand hovering over her arm. Electricity seemed to arc between them, tightening in his chest.

"I think someone's hungry," Jim said suddenly.

Kate blinked and Castle tore his gaze away from hers, glanced to the man standing by the window with the now-mewling newborn.

"Hungry," Kate echoed slowly. And then they both seemed to snap back to it, and Kate was shaking her head and reaching for James while Castle sat up straight, giving her room.

Sometimes it just swamped him, how much he needed her.

* * *

While Castle was out coordinating their departure, Beckett sat on top of the hospital bed with her knees in a diamond, the baby sheltered between them and watching her.

She stroked her finger along the crease of his arm, over his thin chest, and down to his moving foot. He had turned into an active little thing, and his eyes were an indiscriminate grey as he tried to focus on her.

He liked people; he liked noise and bright light and being passed around by all her Office family. No wonder he hadn't been content to stay inside, no wonder he'd wanted out. He'd missed his father's voice, had wanted in on the action, and hadn't wanted to wait.

Kate smiled down at him and his eyes blinked, fists opening, legs kicking in response to her.

"Oh, darling, look at the two of you!"

Kate raised her head and saw his mother standing at the threshold of the hospital room, hands clasped at her chest and her eyes brimming.

"Hey, Martha." She smiled tightly, tried to loosen her reserve. Martha had received the news from Castle over the phone when the boy had been born, but she'd only now shown up?

"Am I interrupting?"

"No. Not at all. Come on in. Rick's taking care of the discharge paperwork."

"The boys met me in the hall, told me where to go."

"They're being protective," Kate said with a smile. James's little fist hit her calf and she glanced back down at him, her breath catching at the way he looked up to her. "Oh. Hey, sweetheart."

Martha had come to her side and was standing at the edge of the bed, not pushing, not speaking, and Kate realized she'd have to give him up. To his grandmother. Kate had no idea what to call Martha. What James would call her.

"You want to hold him? He likes people," she offered, avoiding the whole name thing entirely.

"Oh, I'd love it," Martha said with a little choke to her voice. And then Kate realized what had happened: Martha hadn't wanted to invade their family time, Martha hadn't thought it was her place.

Kate should have called the woman herself; she should have made it clear. Of _course_ a phone call from Castle wouldn't have been enough.

She knew now, though. She'd do better in the future about making Martha feel a part of things.

Now Martha was cradling James close, her face lighting up and golden and alive in a way Kate had never seen before. This might heal a lot of broken things, in both of them - Castle and his mother - if he could just see this. Maybe there was still time.

"Hello, James... Is it a family name?" Martha whispered.

Kate laughed. "More ways than one. James is named for my father. And for Rick," she added cryptically. _The spy._

Martha laughed, a little of her personality shining through, and that was when Castle walked back inside the room. He stopped still at the sight and Kate held her hand out to him, made him come closer.

When he got to his mother's side, Martha glanced up at him and reached out, patting his cheek and pulling him in for a side hug. "I'm just in love with your son, Richard. He's perfect."

"Yeah," Castle rasped. His eyes cut to Kate's, pleading, and her heart ached for him. But he had to do this; they had to trust that Martha wanted to be here, that she had always wanted to be here - part of their family.

"You have such beautiful eyes," Martha beamed down at the baby. "Hello, James. You have a good tradition of strong leading men - James Dean, Jimmy Stewart. What a perfect name you have."

"James Cagney," Castle said suddenly.

Martha startled and glanced up at her son; Kate was stunned. She vaguely knew the name, but for Castle to pull out something like that from film history meant he'd _remembered_ it. The name was significant.

"He was always my favorite," Martha said thickly. She waved a hand and hugged the baby closer with her other arm. "Oh, darling. I went on and on about James Cagney, didn't I?"

"You said he refused to be pushed around. First actor to sue a studio over a contract and win."

"Yes, yes, that is it exactly. A good name," Martha said again, beaming first at Rick and then down at James. "What a legacy for you, kiddo."

Kate reached past Martha and grabbed Castle's hand, lacing their fingers together and squeezing hard.

A legacy.

Not just the regimen, but all their family, their friends. A legacy.


	5. Chapter 5

**Close Encounters 20**

* * *

Kate cradled the baby against her chest and bit her bottom lip, glancing at Castle. "Did you try reading the directions?"

Castle grunted something that she took to mean _Do you think I'm stupid?_

"It shouldn't be this hard," he said finally, pulling his head back out of the Range Rover and glancing at her. "Right?"

"Well, I guess the harder it is to install the baby seat... the safer it is?"

He frowned. "That's reassuring. I guess." They'd been in the parking lot for the last fifteen minutes, and she knew their security - Mitchell's guys - must be getting antsy.

"Here," she said. "You hold him and I'll try."

Castle looked completely dubious about her getting any further than he had on the thing, but he shrugged and reached for James. The baby shifted to his father with only a little bit of awkward _how do I do this? _ on their parts, and then Castle's broad hand was bracing the boy's neck and head, his palm dwarfing their small son. He tucked the baby against his chest, held close, and it stunned her a moment, knocked her off guard.

"Kate?"

She moved towards Castle and completely ignored the car seat, wrapping her arms around them both. He hugged her with one arm, his mouth dropping a kiss to the top of her head, and she felt him draw her in, just as he had their son.

"Kate?"

"Just hit me," she murmured, lifting on her toes to kiss under his jaw. "Seeing you with him."

"Yeah," he rasped. She knew he saw it too, that it struck him the same way. It was a little unbelievable that they were here. They had responsibility for this whole other _life._

Castle's cheek scratched against hers, reminding her that he hadn't shaved, that he'd been permanently installed in her hospital bed the last two days, the two of them marveling over the little thing they'd created and kept safe.

Kate kissed the sharp whisker at his jaw, rubbed her mouth back and forth across his scruff until her lips were raw. Until they tingled and felt exposed and her body was lit up on the inside and blossoming open.

Castle made a noise that meant she might have pushed him a little far, and he drew his hand up her back and caught her by the nape of her neck. His kiss was fierce when it came, his teeth crashing against hers, and she pushed her tongue past his violence and into his mouth, stroking.

He groaned and the underground hospital parking lot suddenly flared bright and intense around them, and she felt her back against the side of the car and his hips pressing into hers and only two hours ago she'd been staring at herself in the mirror and thinking how unappealing and dull she felt this morning.

She felt alive; she was alive. This was so good.

Castle broke from her mouth with a ragged breath of her name, and she opened her eyes to stare at him.

The baby was fussing against his father's chest, caught between their bodies, and Kate lifted a hand and laid it over James's head, slowly leaned in to kiss the little ear.

"Sorry, sweetheart. Think you'll have to get used to that."

Castle laughed, but it was breathless. "Kate. Fix the damn carseat before I drop him."

* * *

"You carry him inside," she told him.

He glanced over at her in the passenger seat of the Rover and studied the angle of her chin and the slope of her throat. "Tired?"

"Mm, yeah," she murmured. Her eyes slid closed for a second and that knot twisted in his chest, but then she opened them again and smiled. "Tired in a good way. Just not sure when I'll next get any sleep."

"I can take care of things," he said softly. She still hadn't reached for the handle of the door and he hadn't either and he felt safe like this, all three of them cocooned in their bullet-proof vehicle. "He's a good sleeper already."

"Yeah," she said. Her head turned slowly towards his and her eyes traveled over his face. "Hey, you worried? Don't be worried, sweetheart. This is normal; this is how it goes."

"Yeah?" He reached out and cupped the side of her neck, fingers threading through the hair she'd pulled back into a pony tail. She looked tired, and he wasn't used to that - not lately. On the prenatal vitamins and the regimen pills, she'd been so vibrant.

He'd forgotten how reserved, how still she could be. She kept her own counsel; she thought before she spoke.

But she smiled at him. "Yeah. Promise. Just tired. You know - eleven-"

"Eleven hours," he chuckled. "Right. Come on then. Time to face them."

She smiled and turned her mouth to his hand, her kiss at the meat of his thumb, and then her tongue touched his skin. He gasped and she laughed. He felt shocked with lightning at the feel of her, his heart racing, like he had when she'd kissed him over and over in the parking garage.

"Save - save that for later," he muttered, withdrawing his hand. She was still chuckling over there, opening her door.

Castle came around to her side and Kate had already opened up the back door, was reaching for the bag of stuff he'd brought her from home. She was dressed in skinny jeans - the maternity ones with the elastic waist - and a loose black shirt with a crooked seam that made it fall off one shoulder and reveal the black lace of the shell's strap. She looked hot. She was doing things to him that he was supposed to wait at least six weeks to follow up on.

"Did I say?" he murmured, taking the bag from her and slinging it over his shoulder.

"Say what?"

"How gorgeous you look," he sighed. She shot him a startled glanced and he reached out to cradle her face in his hands, leaned in to kiss her, softly, sweetly. He wanted her to believe him; she seemed to be believing him, if that catch of her breath meant anything.

The baby was mewling in his seat now that the car had stopped, but Castle ignored him a moment longer to rest with her, foreheads touching, lips brushing, giving himself a moment to shore up strength and determination.

She circled his wrists with her fingers and stroked her thumbs at his pulse points, erotic and tantalizing. "After that, I feel pretty gorgeous," she whispered.

He dropped his hands to her shoulders and tugged her against his chest, his fingers sliding under the neck of her black, silky shirt, teasing along her spine. "You are. You look exotic."

"Not sure I know what the even means," she murmured, but her arm drew around his back. She leaned into him, in those ballet flats that tucked her right up under his chin, and then the baby gave a pitiful noise. "Oh, right. Oops," she laughed. "We didn't forget you, James. Hush, baby."

But she leaned into Castle a moment more, just long enough to press a last kiss to his sternum, before she stepped away. Kate turned and reached into the carrier, stroking her finger over James's forehead. The baby blinked and went still, staring at her, his discontent turning to surprise.

Castle moved past her to unclip the seat from its base; he popped the handle up, then grabbed the carrier and swung it out - easily - now that it was correctly installed of course. Kate watched him and then reached out and tugged his shirt over the weapon he was carrying. She lifted her eyebrow at him.

"What? I have a hand free," he said.

"Looking out for us," she murmured.

Of course he was. He didn't trust that his father wouldn't make an appearance. They had parked in the garage space they rented down the block from their home because Beckett had insisted that they go inside together - no dropping her off in front of the house and going in alone.

It meant they had two blocks to walk as a little family, and he didn't know whether it was better to have her on his other side or on the baby's side, ready to run.

Shit, it came to him suddenly that he was kind of a wreck. Their guys had kept a steady watch on the place and even now there was a team sweeping the streets ahead of them. Castle really was going to have to get it together. Just because the task force team leader had gone in to that little village in France and found nothing didn't mean that his father was _here_.

Black hadn't emailed them either, and Castle didn't like not _knowing_.

"Ready?" she murmured.

He nodded.

Kate ended up on his side while he gripped the carrier close to his thigh on the other; she was careful to leave his hand free, in easy reach of his weapon, but she touched his hip every now and then as if to reassure him. They came out into the morning sunlight together, and Castle could see one of Mitchell's team at the entrance, safe-guarding their way.

The walk those few blocks felt interminable. He was rigidly aware of everything in their environment.

But Kate glanced past him to look in on James in the carrier, and she laughed. "He really loves new things. He's soaking it all in. You like the light, James Beckett?"

Castle risked a glance down at his son and saw James's eyes wide open and staring, his head turning as he tried to track movement. One of his fists had risen free of the blanket and was waving around, fingers opening and closing.

And nothing happened. They arrived at their front door and the street was packed with familiar cars parked just outside their home. He unlocked the door - the alarm had been disarmed when he'd let in their friends remotely - and Kate pushed through ahead of him.

When he dropped their bag just inside the entry, the sheer amount of people hanging out in his living room made him pause. Mitchell and Reynolds both had shown up, even though Reynolds was having a rough time of things the last few months. Espo and Ryan, of course, but also the rest of their friends had taken over their place - Jenny, LT from the 12th, McCord, Carrie, Mason's wife Marin, Castle's mother, Jim, even Dr King. They had converged to snack from their kitchen and argue over the tv stations as they waited to say congratulations.

Ryan saw them first and stopped mid-bite, came forward to slap him on the back, and then everyone else was congratulating them and pulling on them and drawing them deeper into the crowded room.

Lanie took the carrier away from him and set it on the floor, and she was immediately unstrapping the newborn and cradling him, cooing to him as she talked to Kate. Esposito was flinching every time Lanie made over the baby, but Ryan and Jenny had their own girl with them and they were holding her up to James as if introducing them. Castle had no idea. It was just - strange.

It was all so strange.

He had family now. He wasn't sure why he hadn't seen that before.

* * *

James seemed to be completely at ease being passed around. Kate never even had to touch him, just let him body surf his way through their family. She saw her father holding court with James in his arms in the kitchen and she headed back into the living room to sink down in the wide armchair with Castle. He scooted over for her and drew his arm around her shoulders, laughing at something Ryan had said.

Jenny had brought their daughter, and the girl kept crawling over to inspect the dog. Sasha wasn't bothered either, just put her muzzle on top of her paws and allowed the baby to excitedly pat her tail while Jenny hovered close by. Sasha kept turning her eyes to Kate as if to ask if this was really necessary.

"You tired?" Castle murmured in her ear.

She turned back to look at him, smiling. "Actually, no. It's fun. Cozy. Having everyone here."

"Certainly cozy," he laughed, nudging her hip with his elbow. He and Ryan went back to their conversation, something about ghosts or haunted houses in which Ryan was a little too eager, but Kate could drift, her input not necessary to the topic.

Lanie approached - now she was the one holding James - and she bent down close to Kate. "You have diapers and wipes somewhere?"

"Oh, I'll-"

"No, no, let me. I've got nieces and nephews."

"Lanie," she said, struggling to stand. "You haven't seen newborn-"

"I _have_. This is what I'm telling you. Plus, I'm a medical examiner. I have seen and put my hands in worse. Just point me in the direction of your diaper supplies."

"Everything's upstairs," she admitted. "I guess we should have that stuff down here too. More convenient."

"I'll bring some back down with me. You stay. I got him. He's so cuddly."

Cuddly? Kate laughed as her friend weaved expertly through the crowd in the living room and headed for the stairs. She wouldn't have attached cuddly to James, but who knew? It'd only been a few days. James could be anything he wanted.

"Is she changing him?" Castle said. "Does she _know_ what that's like?"

"She said she does."

"I say let her have it. She wants to take a grenade for us, let her."

Kate laughed again and turned her head into him, rubbing her nose against his sleeve. She could smell the warm oil of his skin and the sharp, clean scent of laundry, but layered over that was baby. It was faint, it was mild soap and milk and the lavender scented shampoo that supposedly helped babies sleep, but it was there.

She lost track of time, sitting with Castle wedged in the chair, talking with Jenny about the little girl, with Carrie about their dogs, with her father and Espo about the Mets and their minor league prospects. At one point, she saw James being held aloft by Mason like a trophy, paraded through the entry and to the dining room, disappearing from her view.

Castle grunted and she turned, saw him watching their friends as well. "I have no idea what they're doing to him," Castle sighed.

"Me either."

"He likes it."

"Or he's indifferent," she offered. "He's sleeping right through it, maybe."

"He was awake," Castle said, shaking his head. "I saw him when Esposito had him. He was entranced with Espo."

"Oh, Javi," Kate laughed, turning to look at the man who was sitting nearby now.

"He liked my voice," Esposito shrugged. "I think anyway. Every time I talked, he went really still."

"He likes Castle's voice too," Kate grinned, nudging her husband. He was getting rumbly, that irritated noise in his chest at being compared to Esposito. "He adores you."

"I'll take it," Castle said, a smile breaking through.

"All right, enough," Espo said, sounding disgusted. "Let's break that up. One of Mitch's team brought beer and pizza."

"I get to have at least one of those," Kate grinned, standing up with Javi as he headed for the kitchen. "Where's the beer?"

"Very funny," Espo muttered. "Marin made a cake."

"She did?" Kate paused just in the doorway and went back for Castle, running her hand through his hair and tugging a little. "We have cake. That's what the victory march was for. Mason's wife made it. Come on."

"Oh, nice. Homemade cake?"

"Yes, you poor, deprived man," she laughed. "I won't be making you cake, so you better get in here. Where's your mother?"

Her father was suddenly right there, pointing towards the dining room. "It's all in there, set up for you guys."

She realized suddenly this was a thing - a big deal, something planned by their friends and family - and Castle must have figured it out at the same time because he came with her, slipping his hand in hers.

When they got to the dining room, it had been decorated with navy blue balloons that were emblazoned with wolf prints - she vaguely recognized the logo as a basketball team, but it was still pretty clever.

"Ah, cute, guys. Very cute."

"Well, the wolf is here," Mason said, holding James up a little and eliciting a cheer. James was awake, like Castle had said, and seemed completely at ease with the noise and people, with being held aloft like a lion king baby.

"Blow out the candles," Lanie called. "We're celebrating his birthday."

"Oh, good one," Kate laughed, leaning in towards the cake. There were a riot of candles over the round surface and she could smell the strawberry flavor of the icing. Her favorite. "Castle, come help me."

He bent down with her and they each took a deep breath, fingers squeezing together as they released. The candles flickered and gutted, but none of them went out.

The whole group laughed, Espo more heartily than maybe was necessary, and Kate narrowed her eyes at him, tried again but without any luck.

"Trick candles?" Castle said, pointing his finger at Espo.

Mitchell laughed and Mason was passing James on to Carrie - who held the newborn like a thing she might break, but she leaned in and kissed his forehead before passing him on to Reynolds. Ren looked stunned to have the newborn in his arms.

Kate's father came up to them and clapped Castle on the back.

"Don't blame Javi - trick candles were my idea. Let your flame never go out."

The whole room went quiet at that and Kate turned into her father and hugged him tightly, burying her face in his shoulder to keep down the lump in her throat. "Thanks, Dad."

"Congratulations, honey."

* * *

Castle was left holding his son when everyone finally said good-night. His mother - surprisingly - was the last to go, hanging on his arm and cooing in the baby's face, kissing those small little fists and stroking the top of his head.

When she finally turned to leave, her eyes lifted and caught his and some of that old confidence and vivacity had returned to her, the woman he'd known as a small boy.

The woman he hadn't realized he'd missed.

"You be good to your wife," she warned him. "She did all the work."

"Yes, Mother," he said, feeling his lips stretching. A smile. He was smiling at her, and she was beaming back at him. His son stirred in his arms and smacked his lips and Martha peered in at him, practically vibrating with love.

Love. That's what it was. She loved him, and by extension his son as well. His wife. She loved him.

He'd forgotten that, forgotten that she had, that she did.

"Mother," he said, calling out for her without any real knowledge of why.

She lifted her head again and beamed at him, her hand raising to cup his face. "You're a good man. Already a good father. You're going to be fine, kiddo. Just fine."

He let out a breath and she patted his cheek before releasing his arm and heading for the door. She hugged Kate with a strangling grip, chattering in his wife's ear, and then Kate let her out the door, locking it after her.

James fussed at him, a pitiful little noise, and Castle shifted his son to his shoulder, palm at the boy's back and his fingers bracing his head. Kate leaned against the door and watched him, smiling.

"He's worn out," Castle admitted. "Might have been too much."

"It was perfect," she said softly. "And he'll sleep well tonight."

"You want him?" he offered.

"No, you," she said, pushing off from the door and coming for him. Her hand covered his at the baby's back and she leaned in and dusted a kiss along James's ear before turning her mouth to his.

Castle kissed her, reverent and rough at the same time, needing deeper but his hands holding the baby and unable to bring her closer. She curled her hand at his nape and squeezed, breathing hard against his lips, their foreheads crashing together.

"We did good," she husked. Her head turned and nestled down into the curve of his neck, her arms wrapping around him. "Look what we have. Hey there, baby boy. You look tired. Big day?"

James mewled from Castle's shoulder, evidently recognizing the sound of his mother's voice and completely done in. His fingers splayed at Castle's shirt and curled again, like he was reaching for her, and Castle could sympathize.

"Here," he said. "I think he needs his mom now. Right, kiddo? Too long away from her. I don't blame you."

Kate shifted and took the baby from him, cuddling James down against her chest, her mouth close to the baby's ear. "Did you miss me? You did so good today, sweetheart." She lifted her eyes to Castle and shared her smile. "He let everyone hold him and pass him around and it didn't bother him. He's a happy baby."

"He is. Good thing - because a clingy kid wouldn't exactly fit with our lifestyle," he said grimly. He'd been going for amusing, humorous, but he'd been struck by how non-stop this was, how permanent. Not that he hadn't known it before - of course a child was twenty-four/seven.

But he and Beckett were both severely autonomous people who had happened to fall into an obsessively codependent relationship. And that was Dr King's _nice _way of putting it. Castle was sure they had room and love enough for their son, of course they did, but how well would he be able to redirect his intensity and consuming need for Kate towards something or someone else?

He'd been afraid he was too much like his father to be what his son would need. Only instead of being consumed by the CIA, he was consumed by having Kate, being hers.

But now he was James's father, and he'd found that the two things existed simultaneously without one drawing away from the other. He hadn't known it was possible. Hadn't known he could be mutually exclusive with his wife and singularly focused on his son. He'd been afraid one would have to give way for the other.

That's not what had happened.

By the look Kate was giving him, she'd been afraid of the same thing. That last minute, _oh shit what did we do_. She'd actually said to him in the middle of a contraction, _No, wait, I changed my mind, I'm not ready_. And he'd known immediately what she meant because he'd felt it too.

_I'm not ready for this_.

Who ever had been? Certainly not his own parents, and the way Jim talked about his and Johanna's first few weeks with Kate, neither of them had been ready for it either.

"Hey," she said, her voice tugging him out of himself. "Your mother was right, you know."

"My mother was right?"

"We're going to be fine," she reminded him. "James is going to cut us some slack as first-time parents, and we're going to concentrate on loving him together. And we're going to be fine."

"We already are," he told her automatically. But he realized he actually believed it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Close Encounters 20**

* * *

They had only been home with the baby for a week when Castle woke up to silence.

It wasn't right, didn't feel right at all - silence. No crying, no fussing, no rustle of bedsheets as Kate tried not to wake him. No nudge of Sasha's nose into Castle's elbow to get his attention for the baby's sake, not even the faint stirrings that meant the boy was waking.

Silence. It was late, sleep was still heavy on him, but Castle slipped out of bed and padded barefoot around to the cradle, peered in at his son.

Asleep. He was asleep.

Castle hovered two fingers above the baby's round bow of a mouth and felt the soft rush of breath from those open lips.

Evidently breathing, though not hungry. The heartbeat thing inside the monitor pad was still going, giving out that faint, regular sound that was supposed to remind premature babies to breathe, to never stop, remind them of the womb and being close to mom's heartbeat. The alarm hadn't even gone off, signaling a change in James's pulse (although usually that happened when the baby managed to roll off the mat, not because he actually had stopped breathing).

No alarm. No crying. No dog waking him to say, _hey, check on the baby._

Simply silence.

Castle lifted his head and checked the time. Nearly three in the morning. James hadn't woken even_ once _since Kate had fed him at eleven last night? No way. He was a week old. Was that supposed to happen? Or maybe Kate had taken care of it and he hadn't even heard them, James back asleep after nursing.

Everything was fine, nothing was wrong.

He turned and studied his wife, asleep, curled up facing his side of the bed. She didn't look like she'd moved from that spot since eleven, but he wasn't going to insist on waking everyone up just because James wasn't. That was stupid.

But he checked once more to make sure the baby monitor was on, the breathing pad thing was hooked up, and then Castle gave it up and crawled back into bed. He drew the covers up and settled close to Kate, unable to close his eyes.

After a week, the silence was strange.

He couldn't help but think about his father, out there, no contact, no word, just the silence.

He had a hard time falling back to sleep.

* * *

There was a jolt - dream or the mattress dipping - and Castle opened his eyes to see Kate getting out of bed.

"He asleep?" he murmured, his voice sounding hoarse in the pre-dawn. She had bent over the cradle, her hair falling forward, light breaking into the room around her.

"No," she said softly. "Awake."

"Did you hear him?"

"No," she shook her head, slim eyebrow raised his direction. She reached in and gently maneuvered their son out of the cradle, tucking him in close. "Just waiting, I guess. Enjoying his morning. But definitely awake."

Castle struggled out of dreams to sit up in bed, rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Kate came back to bed with the boy and Castle leaned against the headboard to look at him against her shoulder.

Eyes open, grey and clear, forehead wrinkled as if he was thinking about something. Little old man. "Oh, yeah. Definitely awake. Wow. James, buddy, you're not hungry?"

The baby was starting to squirm though, now that he was close to Kate, his mouth turning into her t-shirt and his body scrunching down.

"No, he's definitely hungry," Kate murmured. "Here we go, James. It's coming, baby."

Castle watched her get James situated, and then he settled back against the pillows, drawing Kate carefully into him. She adjusted them both into the cove of his arm and he tucked his chin on top of her head, closing his eyes in the soft morning, the sounds of James nursing, his and Kate's heartbeats out of rhythm to each other.

"Hungry but willing to wait," he murmured. "What a good kid, letting mommy sleep."

"I think he was playing," she said, elbowing him. He straightened up and she settled against his side. "The light was coming in over his face - he was fascinated."

Castle laughed and the sound made James look up at him as if caught by it. Castle shifted a hand to cup the boy's skill, brushed his thumb over the soft, warm forehead, smooth out those worry lines. James instantly relaxed, put at ease.

"Hey, man. You like that?" The baby's eyes closed, flared open, closed again.

"Oh, you've got the magic touch. Look at that."

"I'll stop," he chuckled. "He needs to eat, not fall back asleep." Castle withdrew his hand and the baby startled, his eyes seeming to track Castle, and then he went back to nursing. Kate glanced up at the window, nodded to the blinds.

"They're open. You see how the sunlight comes in and makes dust motes glow?"

Castle hadn't really, not until she'd said it. But he could see the particles in the air, stirred by the heater coming on and glinting in the strange dawn light. "Yeah, I see."

"I think he did too."

"I thought a baby's vision was only supposed to be - what'd the book say? arm's length? And only in black and white at first."

"That's what the books said," she murmured. "But James isn't..."

He tensed and she immediately stopped.

"Isn't what?" he husked, fingers at her elbow, hanging on. James wasn't what?

_Normal._

"No, nothing. A dust mote a foot in front of his face is probably noticeable. Don't you think?" She was quiet, soothing both him and the baby. He tried to relax, tried to let it go. It was a worry for another time, not here in the bedroom with the morning light.

"You're right," he murmured. A dust mote in front of his face and James had spent the morning hours staring at it rather than fussing to be nursed.

And then Castle had to wonder if his own vision was sharper than usual, better than most. He'd undergone all kinds of testing as a kid, but no one had ever sat him down and said to him, _you're better than average._ His father had made a point of telling Rick that he wasn't special, that he had to work harder, be better, do more, that he had a responsibility to uphold. He'd never been good enough for his father's standards. No one had said he was special.

Well, no one but Kate.

And while Castle didn't want his son to be special, he never wanted James to think that he also _wasn't_ special.

Because he was. He was special to them, the boy they'd fought so hard for. But more than just meaningful, more than just hard-won, James might also be a little _super_.

Castle was going to have to come to terms with that.

* * *

He used a thumb and finger to adjust the baby's blanket, tilted his face down to study the boy. James's little fist unfurled under his chin and he yawned, but those eyes didn't open this time. His mouth smacked, his body went limp, and that was it.

"I think he's finally asleep," Castle murmured.

"You're spoiling him," she whispered, leaning over the back of the couch to kiss his cheek. "And while it's really very cute right now, Castle, I think in a few weeks, I'm going to hate you for it."

"Spoiling him?" he murmured. "Not at all."

"You haven't put him down in the two weeks since we've been home."

"I give him up to you to feed," he muttered back, glancing over his shoulder at her.

Kate was scraping a hand through her hair and even though she had a slight smile tugging at her lips, she looked tired. Two weeks. Two weeks of nonstop, baby-oriented mission. Because it _was_ a mission; it required tactics and planning and back-up. Showering in a five minute snatch of time or stumbling out of bed to nurse, throwing together a dinner when he was too tired to think, changing a diaper and figuring out the tiny snaps all the way down the leg only to have to take it all off again and change the diaper once more _and_ get clean clothes _before_ James started to cry.

Kate was hesitating at the couch, her eyes trained on them, a little glazed.

"Hey, go to bed and take a nap of your own. I've got him, and I swear I'll put him down to sleep; I'll stop spoiling him. You get some sleep, Kate. Sleep as long as you want."

"I'll have to get up to feed him," she shrugged, but her eyes dropped to the boy, her gaze tracing his features. Even her glance was delicate, light, like she didn't want to wake him.

But she also didn't seem to want to leave him. He understood that. All too well.

"We'll go upstairs. I'll put him in the cradle near the bed," he compromised. "And we'll nap - all three of us."

Something radiant lit her face, suffusing her skin as she beamed a smile at him. She leaned over the couch again and kissed him once more, a wet and soft touch of lips that made his chest expand with awareness.

"All three of us," she echoed, her smile spreading. "Yeah. Crawl in with me, sweetheart."

He lifted his hand from the baby and stroked her cheek, rubbing his thumb over the delicate tiredness just under her eye. "Come on. Let's go to bed."

* * *

Castle had James curled up on his chest, fast asleep, little mouth open and lips puckered. He placed his palm at the boy's back, his head turned to watch the soccer game on tv. The birds-in-flight motion of the players going back and forth on the pitch had always given him a strange sense of peace, even if he didn't care who won the game or even know the rules that well.

Most of his peace these days came from the warm little body lying over him. Castle lifted his head from the arm of the couch and pressed a kiss to the boy's head, inhaling baby shampoo and clean skin.

He heard a noise and lifted his gaze, saw Kate in the doorway in leggings and one of his t-shirts, fresh from a shower, her smile soft and precious. "Hey there," she murmured, moving inside the living room.

"Hey," he said quietly, his fingers curling over James's ribs. The boy was only in a diaper, his clothes in the washing machine after that last blowout. "He asleep yet? I can't see his face."

She nodded, her lips coming in to kiss the baby first, then Castle. She hummed as their mouths touched, her palm cradling his jaw, and then she turned and sat on the floor, her back against the couch. She smelled like herbal conditioner and roses, and he had a sudden stupid lump in his throat, missing her. He _missed_ her. They had a three week old baby and they were constantly together in the same house, taking care of him, but everything seemed to be done in shifts.

He missed her.

Kate tilted her head back, looking upside down at him. "Good game there, sports agent?" she chuckled.

He grinned back; his moodiness disappeared just like that. Sports agent had been Eastman's cover for them. "Not really watching the game. Change the channel if you want." He dropped one hand from the baby to bury his fingers in her wet hair, stroking her nape.

Kate hummed, completely still for just a second, and then she gathered the remote from where he'd placed it beside him. She went for the menu guide and started scanning stations while Castle turned his eyes back to his son.

"When do you have to go back?" she asked. Her voice sounded distracted, almost absent-minded, but he knew better.

"I took leave," he answered. He had told her he would, the CIA's family leave, but maybe she'd thought that three weeks was all he could get? "I have eight weeks."

Her head turned quickly to this, the surprise coloring her eyes.

"Couldn't possibly miss this," he said, heard the roughness in his voice.

A smile slipped across her lips and she canted her body towards him, kissing the flex of his bicep and then his mouth again. "Eight weeks. You're home with us for eight weeks."

"And then it's just mission planning here in the city," he added. "No more Eastern Europe runs. You can do - whatever you want to do, Kate, as far as the job goes."

"You mean going back?"

He nodded. "And there's the task force... I still don't know what to do about that. Black will be-"

"We'll do what we have to," she said, cutting it off. "But Castle - you can go into the Office if they need you. Here and there, that's - I mean, eight weeks." She bit her lip and shook her head, her smile shy as she met his eyes. "But I really like sharing it with you."

God, she was going to make him cry. He cleared his throat, hand curled protectively around their son. "You just want me around for the diaper blowouts."

She laughed and leaned her head down to his shoulder, curled up on the floor and sticking close. He touched her hair again, the soft, rich scent of flowers and the damp tendrils curling around his fingers.

"Blowouts, huh? Could be true," she said quietly, her voice humming. "You do such a great job. The first one I had to deal with - last week? So disgusting. I'm terrible at handling it. James kept kicking his feet and getting smeared with his own-"

"Gross," he muttered, tugging her ear. "You're letting our kid play with his own poop."

"That's not poop. It's runny. It's-"

"Okay, I've totally lost my appetite. Thanks." But she was laughing at him, and he felt it too, that bond they had knowing the ins and outs of their baby, what it took to get the job done. It was a shared smile, knowing eyes.

"I feel like someone should have warned us," she said. "Seriously. Blowouts are totally normal and every baby does it, so _why_ did no one say something?"

"Who know who should have? _Ryan_. He's the weak link. You _know_ Sarah Grace had blowouts too. It can't be like a boy thing."

"I feel like maybe Ryan wouldn't have, but Jenny. Jenny should have said it."

"Well, just think," he said. "Now you get to be the one who warns the others. When their time comes."

She laughed at that, shaking her head against him. "The others? So far it's Mason and Marin. We should make a list for them. Things My Friends Should Have Told Me About Having a Baby."

"Blowouts go at the top," he agreed.

She let out a long sigh, and he knew she was tired. They were both tired. _That_ was on the list too. Way up there. From feeding to blowouts to bath time to _shh, I just got him to sleep, _really there was just no time. Last week, they'd made out in the _closet_ for goodness sake, furtive and desperate, lips clashing, teeth, and then she'd pushed him back against the door, both of them in there _hiding_, and they might have ended up taking a nap. Standing up.

But so worth it. So very worth it. James was pretty easy-going, not demanding. He made noises, but he rarely cried - unless he was being changed and Castle was fumbling with it and it went on too long. He cried then; Castle thought maybe he didn't like being cold, in the draft.

And then they had moments like this. Moments where James was asleep against his chest and Kate was smiling at him and he had them both right here and it was relaxed and good and peaceful.

"Maybe we shouldn't warn them at all," he said softly. "Because if we gave them that list and then told them how great it is-"

"They'd never believe us," she finished. Her head lifted from his shoulder and she touched her lips to his, brushing, soft, gentle.

They both turned their gazes to the baby lying on his chest, letting themselves have this moment. And then Kate crawled over him to settle down between Castle's side and the back of the couch, getting close. She laid her hand over his on James's back, and her head at Castle's shoulder, her wet hair dampening his shirt, and then they both watched James sleep.

* * *

Castle heard James mewling from the cradle in their bedroom and he glanced up from his work. His fingers stuck to the papers he was forging; he had to carefully peel the ID away from his skin, listening to the baby.

Huh, where had Kate gone?

Well, of course, _he_ could go get the boy.

Castle put his instruments down on the desk and stood up, hesitating at the hallway, listening for James. He realized he could hear Kate downstairs, probably in the kitchen. She'd been trying to make this dessert thing her mother had always made for brunch on Sundays, but it kept turning out wrong.

He didn't mind. Every 'wrong' coffee cake thing was one he got to scarf down alone while she huffed and tried another. Or cinnamon rolls. Whatever it was.

Castle walked down the hall towards their bedroom, heard the baby fussing and making noises from the cradle. The baby monitor was on, but maybe Kate hadn't hear it. He headed for the other side of the bed and leaned in over the boy, reached in to pull down the material of his white onesie, hand resting on James's belly.

James squirmed, mewling louder now that he had an audience.

"Hey, James Beckett," he murmured to the boy, "you're okay. Just wake up?"

James's little mouth turned down and Castle quickly slid his fingers under the boy's neck, scooped him up to lay against his chest. The baby huddled down into him and whimpered, but already his cries were softer, soothed by warmth and a heartbeat under his ear.

"You missing us? You woke up alone, huh?" He swayed with James, kissed the soft skin and cupped the back of his head, humming to the baby as he rocked him back and forth. "Is everyone having fun without you? Sorry, kiddo. Wanna see what Daddy's doing?"

He carried the baby out of the bedroom and towards his office, brushing his lips across James's forehead. When he got to the desk, he used two fingers to spread the forged documents over the top.

"See? This one is for you. You've got a birth certificate and a passport. Mommy took this photo. Pretty good, huh?"

He eased the baby to the crook of his arm and picked up the Canadian passport he'd already finished, studying the details with a critical eye.

"Yeah, not my best work, but it will pass inspection. When you get a few years older, we'll make a new one. This one is okay for now. You like your name? Beck. Mommy and I figured you'd be okay using just your middle name if we had to leave really fast. Least that way you get to keep something of this life."

James made a noise in his arms and Castle glanced down at him, saw his pitiful little face, the unhappiness.

"I know, I know. Not ideal at all. That's why Mommy and Daddy are so good. And so paranoid. We don't want to have to ever use these. Okay? We're never going to make you use these. Just smart to have them."

James's mouth turned down and he let out a cry.

"Whoa, okay, okay. Let's go find Mommy. I bet you're hungry."

James began to cry, a thin, tired sound, and the dog came clicking down the hallway, toenails on the bare wood, and whined in her throat when she came through the door.

"I know," Castle muttered. "I know. I'm taking him downstairs right now."

Sasha wagged her tail hopefully and walked backward out of the office as if to encourage Castle along. He brought James up against his chest and rubbed the boy's back, headed down the hall after Sasha.

Kate met them at the bottom of the stairs; she looked amused.

"You have an entourage," she said, gesturing to the dog.

"James wasn't happy. Think he's hungry. And Sasha got a little over-protective."

Kate leaned down and petted Sasha first. "Good dog," she murmured, scratching her behind the ears. She dusted her hands off and reached out for James who seemed to have given up crying when he'd heard his mother's voice. Castle handed him over, rolling his eyes at Sasha's encouraging bark.

Kate eased the baby into her arms and laid her hand across his belly, bowing her head over him to dust a kiss at his wrinkled forehead. "You're okay, baby. You're just fine. There's no need to frown."

"He's like a little old man," Castle smiled.

Kate laughed, still looking down at James. "Are you? You kinda are, baby, aren't you? So serious. Don't worry, we're going to take care of you."

James had quieted down the moment Kate had started talking to him, and now his eyes were watching his mother, his mouth working as if he knew. He probably did. He was a smart baby; he knew the signs. He knew they took care of him.

* * *

Kate woke to the feel of fingertips across her jaw, her eyes opening slowly. Castle was on his side in bed with her, smiling.

"Hey, babe," he murmured. "Guess what today is?"

Kate swallowed and nuzzled in closer, pressing her forehead to Castle's chin. James had been doing better about sleeping, but last night he'd woken twice, a little unhappy, uninterested in nursing, wanting only for her to hold him until he'd fallen back asleep again.

"Hm," she murmured, "four weeks old today, huh?"

Castle laughed, his chuckles vibrating the mattress and his fingers rubbing the back of her neck. "Yeah, there's that. And."

"And," she sighed, barely awake.

"And your birthday."

Kate's eyes popped open and she pulled back to look at him, laughing herself. "Oh. My birthday."

"Yeah," he grinned. "And I've got a surprise for you."

"A surprise?"

Castle rubbed his thumb against the knot at her shoulder and leaned in, kissing the corner of her mouth. "A couple surprises actually. Eleven hours and it's your birthday, babe. Means something."

"Couple of surprises, hmm." She shifted to press her body closer to his. "Can one of those surprises be sleeping in this morning?"

Castle chuckled and smoothed his palm down her back, his fingers tucking under her t-shirt and skimming back up her bare spine. She shivered and slid her knee up between his, nudging her nose into his neck.

"You can sleep in this morning. I got it covered. He was up last night?"

"Mm, twice."

"Twice?" he whispered. His fingers teased around her shoulder blade and sent ripples of pleasure along her skin.

She breathed slowly, feeling his touch, her eyes heavy. Castle lifted up, her body going with his but heavy, and then he laid back down. He'd been checking on the baby in his cradle; she knew that move.

"He's asleep, but I'll feed him when he wakes. There's expressed milk in the fridge?"

"Mm-hmm," she murmured.

His fingers trailed up to the nape of her neck, her shirt brushing her ribs with his movement. His thumb swept along the top of her shoulder, bare skin to skin. Castle leaned into her and kissed her cheek, breathing softly at her ear, and his fingers lightly tugged at her hair.

"You're so beautiful, Kate."

She sucked in a breath and tightened her arm around him, pressing her body closer to his. His chest rumbled with pleasure but he stayed right there with her, twined together, and it was so nice, so wonderful to cuddle with him, content in the morning.

Made her _feel_ beautiful too.

"Love you," she murmured, felt herself falling asleep.

* * *

The sky had turned black with clouds by the time Castle heard the shower turn on upstairs. He turned from the windows with James cradled in his arms and headed for the kitchen and the bottle James had been working on.

"Sounds like Mommy is up," he told the boy, softly kissing his head. "Good thing. It's going to start lightning out there soon."

He checked the clock on the oven - it was nearly ten - and Castle reached for the bottle of breastmilk he'd warmed up. James wriggled in his arms and craned his neck eagerly for the nipple, his mouth open like a baby bird.

"All right, all right. Here it is."

Castle pushed the bottle into James's mouth and the boy clamped down, keeping it between his gums and pulling his head back, yanking it away from his father's grip.

"Ha, what do you think you're doing, kiddo?"

James tossed his head with the bottle in his mouth, doing some kind of crazy contortion of his body. Castle laughed and snagged the bottle back, wiggled it in his son's mouth.

"Sasha does this too, you know. You learning tricks from the dog?"

James came out with a noise, releasing the bottle, and then brought both arms up as if he was trying to get it back, slapping at it.

"Nope, not-uh. Mine now. You just want to play."

Suddenly a massive clap of thunder boomed through the house. James stared up wide-eyed at his father.

"Just thunder. The storm is coming. That's what we were watching out the window, remember?"

Castle put the bottle back on the kitchen counter and headed once more to the windows that lined the living room. He settled his hip against the wall, shifted James to prop him up against his chest, and pointed towards the dark horizon. "See that, James? Those are storm clouds. Soon it's going to rain."

James still had his mouth open in wonder, and Castle leaned in against the window, letting the baby stare out.

Another crack of thunder was followed by a fork of lightning, and James gasped, jerking back in Castle's arms.

But he didn't look afraid. Just impressed. He turned his head to Castle as if in question.

"Yeah, that was the lightning. Which means Mommy needs to shower fast."

At that moment, the thunder ripped a long line down the sky, followed by two or three licks of lightning and then a final boom. James was staring out at the storm building up, and Castle realized the baby had gotten a fistful of his shirt and was holding on.

Not quite as unafraid as he appeared.

Castle cupped the back of the boy's head and kissed his little face. "It's fine, James Beckett. Just a storm."

James leaned in towards the window again, his weight against Castle's supporting hand, and his face nearly to the glass.

Just then Castle heard Kate's feet on the stairs. He turned and saw her coming down, her hair still wet but she was dressed, in makeup for the first time since James had been born and the garnet pendant hanging around her neck.

She smiled at them and lifted her eyebrows, pointing silently to James. Castle glanced down and chuckled to see the baby had planted his whole face against the glass, staring out at the storm, mouth open.

"Morning, Kate. We're watching the storm come in."

James kicked his feet, twisting his head to look, and he gave an excited kind of noise to see his mother. Kate winked at Castle, a quick kiss against his mouth as she gathered James into her chest and cuddled him.

Castle let the boy go, one last look out the window, and then he headed into the kitchen with Kate and James following.

"Want the rest of your bottle?" Castle called out, picking it up again. James got both hands up against his mouth and blew out with his lips, spit dribbling down his chin.

"Oh, that's so polite, baby," Kate was laughing. She grabbed the diaper cloth and wiped James's chin, chiding him softly. "Just tell daddy no. He does eventually listen. I promise."

"Oh, very funny."

Kate smirked at him from the round hunch over the boy and kissed James's cheek again, snuggling him close. Castle saw them both jump when thunder pounded again, and then the lights flickered, making James whimper.

Kate started murmuring to him, holding him against her chest, and Castle moved back to the window. He snagged his phone from the kitchen table and called up the weather radar app, watching out the window as it began to load.

He had a bad feeling this was going to ruin her birthday.

"What's it say?" Kate called.

He glanced down and winced. "A huge line of storms coming our way. Wow. Sheer markers, some of that bowing."

"Like when it bows back and makes a _tornado_?"

"Um. Yes." He glanced over at her standing in the doorway with James close. "We have a panic room at least."

Kate startled with a laugh, shaking her head at him, one hand cupped around James's ear. "We do at that."

"But it does kind of ruin the plans I made for you."

"Plans you made _for_ me?"

"With Lanie," he admitted. "It was her idea, give you a night out. But..."

Just then the power flickered again and a crash of thunder sounded, echoing in the house. Castle's phone pulsed as it switched from wireless to cell service and then the lights went out for good.

"Damn," he whispered.

From the entry table, he heard her phone buzz. Rain erupted from the skies and pounded against the roof and windows.

Kate sighed. "Castle, come take your son while I get my phone. He's unsettled."

Castle immediately came towards them, catching sight of James's concerned face in the light coming in from the back windows. He gathered the boy close to his chest, rubbing a hand up and down his back, and Kate pushed past him for the entry. He watched her gather her own phone and check her messages.

Castle murmured nonsense into the boy's ear as he swayed with him, and Kate turned around, holding up her phone.

"City's on blackout. Lanie's required to stay at the ME's. So tonight - whatever it was - is canceled."

"Damn. Kate, I'm sorry. Your birthday."

But she was smiling softly and shaking her head, coming back to them at the living room windows. "I'm not sorry," she said. "My birthday. I want to be here with my two guys."

He sighed but she leaned in and brushed her lips across his mouth, touched her tongue to him so that he opened for her. Her kiss was strong and immediate, belying the light touch of her fingers at his shoulder. She growled and nipped his bottom lip, and he staggered under it, immediately caught.

Kate laughed, kissed his bottom lip, and then carefully pushed her arms between him and the baby, taking James back to her. "We're gonna have fun in the dark, aren't we? We can camp out, tell ghost stories, eat my cake by candlelight. You'd like that, James."

"We're not wasting cake on him," Castle muttered, nudging her hip. She gave him a quick and joyful smile, and he was convinced.

She didn't mind her surprise being canceled. She wanted to be here with them.

"Happy Birthday, Kate."


	7. Chapter 7

**Close Encounters 20**

* * *

Kate leaned back against the thin trunk of the tree in their back yard, a five-week-old James propped on her thighs. The baby was dappled by the leaves above them, his face in shadows and green light, and he kept reaching up for the shapes of things, as if he could see them clearly and wanted more.

She thought maybe he could. Whatever the baby milestones said, she thought he could see the color, the light. Maybe just the outlines, maybe it was the sun shifting through as the breeze picked up, but she thought he was studying the world.

"What do you see, James Beckett?"

She leaned over him and softly kissed his forehead; he got his fingers in her hair and gripped, little feet kicking with happiness. Kate had to unwind his fist from each strand, kissing his tiny fingers as she released them, kissing the soft palm barely bigger than her own thumb.

"Yeah, you see me, don't you? And the tree above you. Those are leaves." She lifted her head at the sound of paws on the grass and smiled. "And there's your dog. Hey, Sasha, come on, puppy. You can come see."

While the dog had been nosing around the yard, Kate and James had been hanging out, but now that Sasha was in sight, the baby's eyes followed the wolf, intent and focused. They had their own understanding, the dog and James, and Sasha mothered him, barking anxiously when he cried, coming to get them if James rolled off the blanket on the living room floor, even laying her muzzle on the bed to watch when he needed to be changed.

Sasha nosed into Kate's lap, snuffled against James's knee. The baby wriggled, arms waving, making Kate laugh at his excitement. He made noises back at her, or maybe just noises alongside her own laughter, and he got a big fistful of Sasha's fur. The dog lifted her eyes to Kate, patient and gentle.

"Oh, sorry, puppy." She reached out to work the baby's hands free, but Sasha moved her head in and laid her head against James's belly. Kate paused, watching the dog and the baby interact, Sasha's eyes rolling up to look at James as the boy stared down at her.

Kate rubbed the dog between the ears, pushing her fingers back over the wolf's skull. Wolf and wolf. James's fistful of fur was released, and the baby wriggled against Kate's thighs as if appreciative of Sasha's attention.

"Hey, baby, this is your best friend, huh?" Sasha rolled her eyes to Kate now, let out a little whine. Kate rubbed her ears and smoothed down the silky fur, patted the top of her head. "Good girl. Sweet girl. You love your new packmate, don't you?"

The breeze ruffled Sasha's fur and caused James to startle, a little noise coming out of his mouth. His attention broke from the dog to look back towards the tree above them, and Kate trailed her finger down his nose, watching him blink past her hand.

He really was focusing on the tree, not on the sight immediately before him.

Suddenly a leaf drifted down into her vision and dropped beside them; she thought James had been looking at it fall. Kate leaned over and snagged it by the stem, then sat up again to dust the leaf over James's face.

The boy gurgled and kicked his feet, dislodging Sasha as he did. But the dog only lifted her head and leaned in against Kate, curling up at her side. Kate laid her hand on the dog's flank, petted her fur down to her belly.

James made a noise at her and Kate glanced to him again, saw him trying to get at the leaf, though not anywhere close. Just kicking his feet and flailing his arms, his eyes wide and piercingly grey.

"Hey, baby, you want this?" She dipped the leaf to his nose and he wriggled even more, arms waving, making Kate chuckle. "Yeah, pretty exciting stuff, huh?"

James was practically breathless with it, blinking up at the leaf whenever it came close, and Kate trailed it over his forehead and down his nose, her grin stretching wide as the boy gasped.

"Oh, you're adorable, you know. Okay. Here it comes." She tapped the leaf against his chin and James made a gurgling noise and did that happy little bounce, legs and arms kicking. Same reaction, each time, and yet he looked like the leaf's descent to his nose was entirely surprising.

Kate laughed and let him have the leaf, curling his little fingers around the stem so he had a hold of it. That seemed to make James giddy with happiness, gurgling and gasping and making noises as his flailing arm made the leaf jerk around in front of his face.

Sasha whuffled against Kate's side; she glanced down at the dog and laughed at the way the wolf seemed to be eyeing James's leaf with disdain.

"Yeah, I know, but what can you do? He likes it. And he's really cute. Hard to tell a Castle male that something's not a toy."

Sasha sighed and laid her muzzle back on her paws, lifting her eyes to Kate with a long-suffering look.

Kate petted her, making sure to scratch behind her ears, and then she turned back and snagged the leaf out of James's mouth, tapping his nose and shaking her head even as she laughed.

"No, no, James. That's not good to eat."

She could _swear_ he was looking right at her and grinning.

But newborns weren't supposed to be able to smile.

She grinned back at him, leaned in and kissed his cheek. "But I think you're so much more advanced than the average baby. Aren't you? I guess most mothers say that, though. Shh, we'll keep that between you and me, James. Okay?"

James just gurgled, fingers opening and closing as if he wanted the leaf back.

* * *

Castle could see them in the backyard, so he dumped the groceries on the kitchen counter and went to join them. When he stepped outside, the dog only lifted her head from her paws, didn't jump up for him like she usually did.

Ah, she was watching over the baby.

Kate had James on a blanket under the tree, and Sasha was watch dog, apparently.

"Kate?"

"Here." Her voice came from the side and he swiveled his head to see her in the garden, in just jeans and a thin shirt - _not_ a maternity shirt - dirt on her knees and hands.

"What are you doing?" he laughed.

"I found some weeds. He's on a blanket watching the leaves."

Yeah, he'd heard about the kid's fascination with the tree. "Hey, come here," he murmured, watching the length of her thigh as she kneeled in the garden. It wasn't like they'd planted carrots and shit; it was just the herbs from their place in Rome, the scent and fragrance of a home away from home.

A home that was gone now. They had the place in Florence instead, but it didn't have the herb garden. Maybe they should do that there. Maybe they could all go one day soon, christen the place properly, plant oregano and thyme and cumin and dill so that it smelled like it should when they stepped out into the center courtyard.

"Hey," he said again. "Kate."

She glanced up at him, used her pinky finger to push a hair off her face. She must have seen something in his eyes because she dropped the clumps of weeds to the ground and stood, rising up like Venus from the waters, her hair curling around her shoulders.

She dusted her hands off on her jeans and came for him, slid into his space easily, barefoot in the grass so that her body fit against his in a way that made his hands ache for her. A strangely warm November afternoon, a breeze along the slowly-browning grass, his wife against him.

Castle cupped her shoulders and then slid his palm up to the back of her head, ran his fingers through her hair, cradling the side of her face. He leaned in and sipped from her mouth, softly touching his tongue to her lips as she opened for him.

Kate hummed and lifted on her toes, drew her arm around his neck, pressing herself to him. It was warm and earthy, tasted of salt-sweat and rose, and he found himself curling his fist in her hair and winding his arm around her waist and dragging her higher and tighter against him.

She moaned and broke from his mouth, breathing hard, her cheek pressed to his as she gulped down her arousal and he tried to do the same.

"Three more weeks," he rasped, closing his eyes.

She laughed brokenly and nodded, but he felt the hesitation. "We could-"

"No," he rumbled. "No. I saw him being born, Kate. That's traumatic shit."

She laughed then, lighter and happier, her arm squeezing around his neck. "Not so traumatic. I promise. I'm just tired."

Still? He'd thought it'd gotten better. James slept for about three hours before he needed to be fed, and they were working towards four. "If you expressed milk, then I could feed him at night instead."

"Maybe later," she murmured. "Not right now. I want to hold him."

"Okay," he sighed. But he tried to keep it light. "Be that way. Keep him all to yourself."

Kate laughed, choking with surprise, and she pulled her head back to look at him. He smiled, lifting an eyebrow, and she cupped his face in her hands, kissed him hard on the mouth.

"I will. He's only _five_ weeks old. I have twelve weeks of maternity leave, so I'll _have_ to at some point. Just give me time." Twelve weeks of maternity leave was up from the eight she'd planned on.

"I'm mostly kidding. It's just an easy solution to the lack of sleep."

She nodded, but a flicker of a shadow slid behind her eyes. "I'm not - part of my sleeplessness is just me. You know that, right?"

"What do you mean, just you?"

"How I'm built, Castle. I guess I've hit some insomnia. We put him back down at night and I just lie there, thinking about all the things... ever. Everything. My mind races."

"Huh."

"Yeah," she said, wrinkling her nose. "I called Dr King about it. He can't prescribe me anything, of course, and we went through a few self-calming techniques-"

"Does it work?"

She shrugged. "Sometimes."

Castle unwound his fingers from her hair and pushed her head down to his shoulder, embracing her tightly. He kissed the top of her head, brushed his lips down her temple. "And our usual methods to - uh - make you wiped out enough to sleep are off the table."

She hummed, a little laugh behind it, and he smiled.

"Only for three more weeks," she said softly. Her fingers teased around the waistband of his dress pants and he grunted. "I'll survive. Or maybe convince you early."

Castle chuckled and rubbed her back through the silky slide of her shirt, still a little turned on, like it was at the edge of his mind all the time.

Well, it _was_. And Kate wearing this flimsy shirt where he could see the shape of her and feel the warmth of her skin from the sun and smell the herbs and the clean soap and the fresh-from-the-shower blossom of her hair under his nose was devastating.

Castle pushed his mouth to her jaw and nipped at her skin, pleased when she sighed, a little shaky and forlorn. "We could make out a little under the tree. Sasha's a good baby-sitter," he murmured in her ear.

Kate laughed and nudged her hips into his. "Deal."

* * *

They had tried to get him to go into work - it was a conspiracy, he was certain, since four regions' networks simultaneously collapsed - but he wouldn't go. He was on _leave_. He wanted to be here with his wife and his son.

Kate had even pushed him towards the door, but in the end, Castle had worked from home, holed up in the upstairs office. Conference calls and video chat, emails and situation reports. He was glad Mason was in town to put out fires, but it required Castle's rank and charm to ensure cooperation with other governments. Still, he was missing the best part of the day doing this, contacting overseas agents and putting missions into play.

He took a break at midnight, forced himself away from the insistent buzz of alerts. He stretched in the doorway of the office, heard the bones popping in his back as his spine lengthened. He hunted down his wife, found her in the kitchen, sitting in the moonlight spilling in through the windows.

Kate, so beautiful, holding their son.

"You're up," he breathed, dropping down to squat at her side. She stroked her fingers through his hair and he stared at the boy on her lap, wide awake. "You're both up," he corrected. It was nearly midnight.

"His schedule isn't quite right," she murmured. Her thumb came up and pressed into Castle's eyebrow. "And I'm tired. Thought maybe it'd be better not to try and move just yet."

"That tired?" Castle reached out and skated his finger over the boy's nose and down, his palm as large and wide as the baby's torso and fitting him exactly. "You should sleep. I'll take him."

"It's been weeks," she sighed.

He didn't know what that meant - the boy was six weeks old, was that it? - but his attention was absorbed by the baby. James. For her father, for his dream. James Beckett.

It fit the boy well, with his quiet nature and his constant watching. He had eyes that searched, roamed until they caught a face, and he paid attention to people, as if he was listening. Castle leaned over and kissed the baby's forehead, breathed in the scent of clean skin and diaper lotion and milk. A fist came to bat at his jaw and little fingers splayed, made his breath catch.

"He's been waiting up for you," she said, one hand curling in his hair, her other hand on the baby's belly to hold him at her lap. He stroked his thumb over and around the little watching face, and then he finally looked up at Kate.

"Thank you," he whispered, and he leaned in to touch his lips to hers.

She kept him there, but her grip on his neck was weak. He broke from her mouth and breathed against her cheek, waiting on her.

Finally, she swallowed and said, "I'm tired. Can you-"

"Of course," he said immediately.

He slid his hand under the baby's neck and cradled James in the crook of his arm, stood up again. Warm skin to skin, his little head fit snug at Castle's neck, the small body squirming, getting comfortable, getting used to his father's shape.

He sensed Kate still in the chair, not moving. "Kate, you okay?"

Rick glanced down from the baby to meet his wife's gaze, found her amused and adoring, shaking her head at him. "Just really tired. More tired than I expected. Help me up?"

He stood with his son in his arms and studied her a moment; she was wearing leggings and one of her maternity shirts, the fabric loose now around her and slouching down one shoulder. She looked more than ready for bed, her hair a mess around her face from air drying earlier today, and she had even been wearing eyeliner and mascara, making her eyes luminous and smudged in the late hour.

"No woman has the right to be so beautiful," he breathed out.

She blushed, an eyebrow raised at him, and he realized he'd said it out loud, that she was waiting for him to give her a hand and instead he was just standing there like an idiot. He shook his head at himself and shifted James to one arm so he could help Kate.

"If I weren't so tired," she murmured, gripping his forearm. "I'd do something about how sweet that was."

He laughed. "No need. Didn't actually mean to say it." He leaned in and kissed the corner of her eye. "Can you make it upstairs to bed, or should I put him down and carry you?"

"You carry me, Castle, for any reason other than mortal peril, and I will hurt you."

"Whatever, you let me carry you when I'm taking you to bed."

"Different kind of taking me to bed," she said, narrowing her eyes.

Was she sensitive about it - about the weakness, the lack of strength? She'd had a baby six weeks ago; he wasn't expecting her to not be tired. They were both getting up when James needed to be fed, but Kate was the one doing the feeding. Exhaustion was just par for the course right now.

He smiled at her, wriggling his eyebrows. "Piggy-back ride, then. Like we did in Russia, love."

"I will really hurt you. Just let me go slow and I'll make it."

He stopped teasing her, let her move past him and towards the dining room. A lot of the baby's stuff had ended up collected in there, the changing pad and diapers and wipes, pacifiers and blankets, those diaper cloths that were constantly getting ruined. It was a good halfway point between the living room and kitchen, a stopping place just coming down the stairs.

Kate was moving pretty slow, actually. She'd been waiting how long in the kitchen for him? Unwilling to get up or too tired to move. Afraid she'd drop James. He narrowed his eyes and studied her on the stairs, and thank God he did, because halfway up, her foot missed and she pitched sideways.

Castle reached out and caught her easily, drawing her into his chest, holding James in a football carry in the other arm so he wouldn't get crushed. Kate's heart was pounding and he could feel the sweat break out on her neck, her hands damp where she clutched him.

"Shit," she groaned.

"Kate."

"Missed the step. Oh, God. I-"

"Are you okay? This is more than just-"

"No, I'm just - just tired, Castle. I just need to sleep. For longer than a couple hours."

"Hey, I'm up - awake. I'll take him all night. The two of us will hang out in the office. I'll-"

"He'll need to be fed," she sighed. "It'll be fine. I'm okay." And if to prove her point, she pushed away from him and started back up the stairs.

"I'll come get you when he needs you," he answered. He didn't say how much easier this would be if she'd just express the milk and let him feed the baby a warmed-up bottle.

"He'll need me in a couple hours," she murmured. "There's no point."

"No, but if I've got him, then the alarm on the breathing sensor pad thing won't go off every few minutes. You can get at least the full two hours." Castle kept James in the crook of his arm, ready to catch her again, just in case, but she seemed to be focusing all her energy on making it up. "Two hours of sleep, at least. And probably longer - James has been sleeping three and four hours some nights."

At the top of the steps, she gave him a grim little smile. "That does sound nice. Okay. You take him into the office. But first come sit with me for a little while? Until I manage to fall asleep."

"Yeah, babe. We can do that." He followed her down the hall, and once they got to the bedroom, she didn't even pause to take off her make-up or pull up her hair. She crawled straight into bed and collapsed there.

Castle stood with James in his arms and nudged his knee into Kate's thigh.

"Scoot over, beautiful."

She did, slowly, pushing her fists into the bed to shift her body. But the ease of her movement, the loose length of her muscles along her frame made something in him relax. She was truly okay; she was just tired. The monitor kept going off all night whenever James shifted off of the pad, and it jangled them awake, and then she was awake _waiting_ for it to go off, so of course after nineteen days she was tired.

But she was happy, and smiling at him from the nest of the bed, and the exhaustion could be fixed if she could just get some sleep.

He leaned back against the headboard with Kate at his shoulder, and he shifted the baby to his lap so they could both watch James's wide-eyed, observant face.

When Castle glanced over at her, Kate was already asleep.

* * *

She found the breast pump in the closet of the baby's room, took it out with a curl of her lip. She didn't want to express breastmilk, but after last night's near-fall down the stairs - what if she hadn't waited for Castle to come get them? what if she'd had James in her arms? - she thought it might be a good idea.

She needed more sleep.

This thing looked like a torture device.

But Castle was the one genetically engineered for this kind of mission - two hours' sleep at a time, four here and there like a tease, back to three, sometimes thirty minutes if the baby needed to be changed. So why not let Castle take the lead?

He had the regimen, after all, and she no longer did. Might as well put the damn injections to good use, right?

Kate sighed and tucked the contraption under her arm, slowly turned for the stairs. If she was going to use this thing, then he was going to help her with it. Torture _him_ a little too. He kept holding out on her, telling her _five more weeks, four more weeks, three more weeks, two more weeks and four days_.

It was completely unfair to keep reminding her how much she wanted him, to kiss her softly with all that sweet love, to pounce on her when she walked out of the bedroom from putting the baby down for a nap and ravage her neck - and then to _stop_.

But he was so happy. It was hard to stay mad at him when he went around like an eager little boy. An eager man. Touching things. Giddy and a little rough with his hands and she really liked it, oh, she really liked it, how he made her feel...

She just needed some sleep. Two more weeks? She could knock off a few weeks on the pelvic rest thing; she felt that healthy, except for the sleep. Probably some leftover effects of the supplements she'd taken in her pregnancy, giving her a little extra push in the right direction.

She still felt them, the effects. She wasn't going to mention it to Castle; he'd be furious and it would be an impotent fury - no point to it now. She still woke every morning feeling a little off, like she needed something that she couldn't quite put a name to, craving it deep somewhere.

So she had a little withdrawal going. That's what she was calling it. But she'd promised him she wouldn't - it wasn't a good idea to get started down that road, and Beckett knew she had an addictive personality. Holy fuck, did she. Her father and his drinking was only part of it. Her mother's case, for years, had been that bottle for her, and then Castle had shown up in her life.

Castle _was_ her life. That was her addiction. She still went to therapy because of it, and she wasn't going to start on some damn pill just because she'd wanted to-

Oh, look at that.

Kate paused in the entryway, her eyes arrested on the sight before her. Castle had fallen asleep laid out on the couch, and the baby was asleep on his chest. James's little face was scrunched up against his father's t-shirt, and Castle's wide hand was on his back, holding him in place.

Beautiful.

She swallowed and carefully eased the pump to the entry table, glanced down to look for her phone. It was charging just beside the little elephant that held their keys, and she unplugged it quickly and pulled up the camera.

She took a couple photos of the two of them asleep together, and then she sank to her knees beside the couch and slowly trailed her fingers around James's small, tiny ear. He had that fist up under his chin and his eyes lightly shut, and as she dusted the shell of his ear with her thumb, she saw his face relax, the way it did when he was falling deeper and deeper asleep.

Castle did that too. He went from that surface sleep where any little movement would wake him, the kind of sleep he'd always had in the beginning, that she'd called 'high-alert' sleep. Spy sleep.

Altered DNA sleep? Probably.

Over time, Kate had seen the shift in Castle. She'd held him against her body and watched his face as he slipped down into deep, dreamless sleep. The kind that most people got, the normal kind.

The kind she couldn't find any longer.

Kate sank back on her heels and watched the two of them sleep, grateful someone at least could, grateful that James seemed to transition without problem. She leaned against the couch and put her head against the arm, close to Castle's face, and she brushed her lips over his temple.

He smelled like baby lotion and cool winter woods, a strangely erotic combination.

Sasha padded softly into the living room from the kitchen and came to nose against her shoulder. Kate smiled and turned her head, petted the dog until she laid down at Kate's side.

Whole family, taking a little nap.

Probably a good idea. Too bad she couldn't quite settle.

instead, Kate turned back to her husband and touched the ends of his hair where it flopped over his forehead, brushed it back softly. He didn't stir, already deeply asleep, and she kissed him again, so in love with him.

She'd figure this out. No one ever said having a baby was easy. If sleep was the worst of her problems, they had it pretty good.

* * *

Castle held his breath and teased the boy's lips with the bottle. James opened his eyes, giving up his mewling little noises of hunger, and he opened his mouth.

"Whew," Castle whispered. "Just that easy, huh?"

James sucked fiercely from the bottle of warmed breastmilk, and he didn't seem to care that his mother wasn't attached to the other end. He blinked up at Castle, staring into him, content with being fed and held.

Castle eased back in the rocking chair, feeling too big and thick for the little cherry-wood rocker, but James liked the sensation. He glanced up at the bed and saw Kate was still asleep, thank God, her face in the shadows of the room, one of her knees drawn up.

It had been worth the absolute torture of her making him _help_ pump breastmilk to have this moment.

He'd been worried about her, the lack of sleep, but now that he was here with his son in the dead of night, he realized he'd been wanting this too.

The chance to take care of things for both of them. He could feed his son and settle him down again and let his wife sleep. He could do that; it was a simple thing. Except he hadn't been able to - he didn't have the right equipment.

New sensation for him, not having what it took to get the mission accomplished. He hadn't liked that feeling, the helplessness of having to wake her up so James could be fed, or even worse, waking in the middle of the night to silence and realizing he'd missed it entirely and she hadn't even woken him.

At least Kate could sleep now. He was perversely grateful for that almost-fall down the stairs the other night. She'd seen how bad her exhaustion had gotten. And it was mostly at night - during the day she seemed fine. They laughed and played with the baby, they were both entranced with him.

James flicked a finger agains the bottle and it scratched in the silence. Castle looked down at him and smiled, saw those grey eyes looking back at him. He leaned in over the baby and kissed his forehead.

"Hey, there," he murmured. "Dad's not doing such a bad job, is he? With Mommy's help, of course."

James seemed to grin at him from around the bottle. He knew it wasn't really a smile - just gas, that's what all the books and the online stuff said, but it looked like a smile. It felt like a smile.

Kate hadn't talked about it, but Castle had eyes. James was a little more advanced. He'd been born nearly four weeks before his original due date, two weeks before Dennison's _revised_ date, and yet he was healthy and active and blazing through milestones.

But if Kate didn't want to talk about it, then he wouldn't bring it up. What did it matter anyway? "So you can see better than all the other babies. So what?" he whispered. Castle rubbed his thumb over James's skull, feeling the dark hair under his touch. "Not a bad thing. You're already going to have an interesting life with us, kid. Might as well have an edge."

His throat closed up at the innocence of his son in his arms, the open eyes and sucking mouth, the little fist against the bottle. He was wearing a white onesie for pajamas because Kate said he got hot - she'd find him damp with sweat when she got him from the cradle for a feeding. But babies were warm, and Castle himself was hot-natured; it didn't have to mean anything.

It didn't have to mean anything at all.

James's fingers flicked open on the bottle, that smile around the nipple again. Castle smiled back, his chest easing. "You're a good boy, James Beckett. You make it easy on us. You watch the leaves and Sasha and you don't ask for much. You don't cry that much, just those cute little noises. Mommy makes those noises too sometimes. Certain times. Never mind, that's probably not appropriate conversation. Forget I said anything."

But James was grinning at him from around the bottle, and Castle couldn't help grinning back, stroking his fingers over the boy's hair to try and lay it down flat. Little mohawk baby. His fringe of wolf fur, Kate sometimes said.

"Yeah, you're pretty cute," he whispered. "Finish your bottle, Jay."

James kicked his feet and waved that little fist, and Castle grinned wider.

"You like that? Jay? Just kinda came out. James is a good name, but I think a guy needs a nickname like that. One for the people who love him best. Mommy calls me Rick. She was the one to give me that name. It feels special because of that. You mind if we call you Jay sometimes?"

The baby was sucking furiously on the bottle again, so it didn't seem like he had any objections.

Castle felt only a little stupid, talking to his baby in the middle of the night, three in the morning now, actually. Only a little stupid.

Mostly he just felt honored. And proud. And he wanted to put James back to bed and crawl in behind Kate and hold her for a long time. Feel her body against his and protect her sleep. The bottle was nearly done - James had been hungry - and the little fingers were cool at Castle's forearm.

"You done?" he murmured. The baby popped off the bottle with a smacking of his lips, blinking fast in the dim light, looking like he was fighting sleep. So Castle shifted him to his shoulder and softly patted his back, rocking slowly in the chair.

He felt the moment the boy fell asleep, his whole body slumping against his father's shoulder.

Castle had done it. Without help. And Kate had been able to sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**Close Encounters 20**

* * *

Kate woke feeling drugged, heavy, and her eyes opened slowly to the brilliant sunlight trying to break in past the thick curtains.

She lifted her head in a burst of awareness, searching for the baby, but the cradle was empty at the side of the bed. The clock read one, but surely it couldn't be one in the afternoon. No. It _couldn't_ be.

She wrestled with the sheets and comforter, forced to shove them down and off of herself to even get out of bed. She staggered when she finally stood, her body listing to one side so that she had to reach out and catch the wall to hold herself up. Her feet were funny, knees loose, but in a second the feeling disappeared and she stood without falling. She'd slept too long.

She hesitated to call out for Castle; one o'clock was in the middle of James's naptime - one of many - and if he was asleep she didn't want to wake him.

One o'clock. Fuck. How had she slept so long? Since... eleven last night? That was the last feeding she remembered.

Kate dragged her hand through her hair and winced at the grimy feel, headed for the hallway and the boy's room. Castle might have put him down in there, even though they had both said the crib seemed entirely too big for him, too far away.

But the boy's bedroom was empty except for Sasha, the dog asleep on the floor near the forest of decal trees. She looked peaceful, so Kate didn't disturb her with questions she couldn't answer anyway.

She headed downstairs, still in only one of Castle's black t-shirts, nothing else, until she found the two boys in the living room.

Playing video games.

Well, Castle was playing a video game and narrating in an undertone to James who looked decidedly sleepy but willing himself awake to stare at his father and then the screen.

"What's going on?" she said.

Castle froze but James let out a happy sound and kicked his feet in the seat. She stepped past her husband, trailing her fingers across his shoulders as he gave her a caught-out look, and she moved to the bouncy seat propped up on the floor beside the coffee table.

"Hey, there, James. You have a good morning with Daddy?" She reached out and stroked her fingers over his sticking up hair and he waved both fists at her and bounced again. She leaned in and kissed his forehead, and she could swear he sighed with pleasure.

Or maybe that was Castle huffing behind her. She turned and saw his jealous glare and she grinned, moved to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him. She even took him by surprise, his body rocking to one side, her weight unbalancing him. But Castle hummed and wrapped one arm around her, holding out the controller so she wouldn't ruin his game.

"What're you playing?" she said softly, kissing his neck.

"Uh, one of Espo's stupid games. Call of Duty. Morning."

"Afternoon," she corrected, touching her tongue to his adam's apple just so she could feel it bob. "You let me sleep."

"Yeah, long as possible. You - uh - you feel good."

"I do?"

Castle grunted and clutched her hip. "I meant. I meant _do_ you feel good?"

"I feel pretty fantastic," she admitted, nuzzling her nose against him. Castle let out a breath and dropped the controller to the chair behind him, wrapped his arms around her. His hug was a little more fierce, more intense than she'd expected, but it felt good nonetheless.

"Good," he sighed. "That's good. I was gonna have to wake you. We ran out of breastmilk."

She laughed but she'd figured as much. She could feel it too. "I'll pump in a second. You get any sleep?"

"Enough," he promised. His mouth grazed a kiss along her cheekbone but he buried his face against her neck, hanging on to her.

She liked his need, liked feeling him wrap himself up in her. Good to be needed, maybe especially because he was a super spy and didn't need much.

"You should check out his outfit," Castle murmured.

She frowned in confusion and pulled back to look at him, had to grip him by the hair and tug him away from her chest to see his face. "What?"

"His outfit. I dressed him."

She laughed at the pride in his tone and kissed him hard for it. "Good job, Daddy. I didn't notice his outfit, but let's have a look." He seemed so proud.

Kate let go of him and turned back to the baby still in the bouncy seat, working his fist towards his mouth like he might actually get it there. She sank down to her haunches in front of the boy and tugged his arm out of the way to read his t-shirt.

_My Mom Kicks Ass._

"Castle," she laughed, turning her head to look at him. He had sunk down into the chair to grin at her. "Where did this come from?"

"Found it when I went out for groceries. There were a couple of t-shirt onesie things at the end of the aisle of baby food and I couldn't help myself."

She brushed the hair down on James's head and then let him have his little fist back, turned around to her husband. He'd turned off the video game entirely, controller forgotten on the side table, and she shifted to her knees before him, rubbed her hands up and down his thighs.

"You're pretty kickass yourself," she murmured, smiling up at him.

Castle cupped the backs of her elbows and leaned in to kiss her. Their mouths met, rich and giving, heating up fast. His fingers found the hem of the t-shirt and slid up, dragging the material up her legs and to her hip, thumb stroking along her ribs. He grunted when he realized she wasn't wearing any underwear, and he leaned over to tug her up onto his lap.

Kate straddled his thighs and sank down against him, pushing her hands under his shirt and around his back, wriggling to get close. Castle gasped and jerked, crushing her against him, his breath hot at her neck, and she knew they'd pushed too far.

Castle slowly pushed the t-shirt back down, laid his palms flat at her back. She could feel him counting his breaths for control of himself.

"One more week," she promised. "Five days."

"Five days? No, at least-"

"Five," she said firmly. "I did some research online the other night. Five more days, Castle."

She could feel him swallow hard but he didn't say no. Her breasts began to ache, pressed against him like this, her heart beating too fast, and she sighed.

"I should feed him," she said. "Or at least pump. Starting to feel it."

Castle let go of her and she slid off his lap, turned back to the baby in his seat. James caught her looking and waved his arms for her, so she scooped down and unstrapped him from the seat, picked him up.

He nuzzled right down into her chest, much like his father had, and she cupped the back of her son's head and kissed his ear softly. "Hey there, James. You miss me at all?"

"He did. He was fine with the bottle, but the third time I gave it to him, he looked distinctly disappointed."

Kate chuckled and turned to find Castle right there, a crooked smile on his face. She patted his chest and carried the baby out to the kitchen, searching for the pump.

It would be cruel to make him help after that make-out session in the chair.

* * *

"You wanna get out of the house?" she said.

Castle lifted his head slowly, staring at her. Did he want to get out of the house? Did she not _know_ him?

Kate flushed, shaking her head. "Okay, stupid question. You want to huddle in the panic room. Right. But. Maybe we could take Sasha to the dog park. James's first outing."

He glanced back down to the casserole he was putting together for dinner, took a long breath to steel himself. "Okay. First outing. Yeah. Let's get out of the house."

Kate hummed and wrapped her arms around him, her body pressed against his side and her kiss soft at his cheek. "Thank you," she murmured. "I know you're worried about our safety."

"I'll be armed," he warned her.

"I wouldn't expect anything less," she answered. Her kiss at his jaw was even lighter, a mere brush of her lips across his scruff.

"I still haven't gotten in touch with Black," he growled. "I don't know what the hell he's doing."

"I know," she whispered. "I know. But we can't hide. I don't want to hide. I love our family and I want-"

"Okay," he said quickly. "Okay, Kate. I know. I'm not ashamed - just careful."

She nodded, cupping the side of his face with her cool fingers. "We'll go after you finish putting that together?"

"Yeah. Take me five minutes. Bring your phone."

"Of course," she murmured, still stroking his jaw. "I could bring my back-up piece in the ankle holster."

Shit, just the fact that she offered, that she knew him so well; it helped. "Yeah," he said, clearing his throat. "Yeah, do that."

Kate lifted on her toes and kissed him again, the corner of his mouth so that the slide of her lips sent that strange peace over him, like it always did. When she touched him, all he could see was her, all he needed was the curl of her smile and the warmth in her eyes.

"We're gonna be just fine. A walk in the park."

He let out a little breath of laughter, wrapped his arm around her in gratitude. She stayed in his embrace, didn't try to move away, and he took the moment he needed to let his heart settle and ease.

* * *

Kate eased the baby into the stroller, wondered how they'd managed to gather so much _stuff_. Diapers, a change of clothes because every need for a new diaper meant a blowout these days, a pacifier even though James didn't seem to like or need them, one of those black and white mirrored toys that he was always fascinated with, wet wipes, the changing pad, the stroller itself, and then finally, the baby.

"This is ridiculous," Castle muttered.

"I know," she lamented. "Seriously. How did we become these people?"

"We could just carry him."

"Then where would we put all this shit?" she muttered.

"Well." Castle rubbed his jaw and glanced over the baby paraphernalia. "Uh."

"Maybe we don't need it?"

"The baby book said that it was a bad idea to go out without-"

"Fuck the baby book," she muttered.

Castle shot her a scandalized look, but he was smirking. "Next time we can abandon all the rules and throw caution to the wind. Right now, I kinda feel like we need as much support as we can get."

"Support?" she laughed. "It's not a mission, Rick."

"Yes it is," he said seriously. "It's a mission. And you don't go out into the field without planning for every contingency."

She rolled her eyes, but he had a point. "Fine. Strap him in, would you? I need to put on my shoes."

"Yeah," he answered, bending over the stroller. It looked like a weird shopping cart - a bright blue carrier with a sunshade that could fold down, all of it perched on top of four buggy wheels. The handle rose up from the wheels with a contoured grip. Castle had bought it online after an extensive research session in which he had looked up every review and consumer reports article before deciding.

It was probably Castle's favorite purchase, she knew, and he looked pretty proud of it.

Kate headed for the hall closet and found her tennis shoes, already longing for a run, escape, but a walk to the park would have to do.

"Hey, where's his elephant?" Castle asked.

"Um..." Kate shoved her foot into her shoe and pushed her hair back. "I think it's in the swing."

"He likes that. Can you get it?"

"Yeah, I'll get it." She moved quickly through the living room to the swing that they'd set up in the doorway to the kitchen, scooped the corduroy elephant from the seat. "Found it." It had been _her_ elephant, once upon a time, a gift from Castle on her birthday. James had appropriated it; she thought he liked the way it felt against his skin.

When she got back to Castle, he'd managed to get the stroller harness strapped around James but the boy had fallen asleep. She laughed softly, tucked the stuffed animal in at James's feet. "Well, looks like getting ready has worn him out."

"Me too," Castle chuckled. "Okay, we have everything?"

"We're good," she answered, gesturing towards the door.

At just that moment, the dog came padding softly from the kitchen, giving them a tilt of her head as if she were questioning their sanity.

Whoops.

"We forgot the dog," Castle laughed.

"We did," she confirmed. "Wow. Okay. Sasha, puppy, come here. Wanna go to the park?"

Sasha bounded towards them, giving her wolfish grin, tongue hanging out, tail swishing. Kate swiped the leash from the entry table and clipped it to the dog's collar.

"Okay, _now_ we're ready. She's much easier."

Castle moved to take the stroller, but he was still peering down at the baby, watching James as if he might suddenly wake up. Castle reached in over the handle and stroked his fingers over the boy's head, trying to flatten down his hair, but it was kinda hopeless until the fine fluff grew out into something heavier.

Kate grabbed her husband by the sleeve, chuckling as he nearly ran the stroller into the door.

"Oh no," she said. "You don't get to steer. You're so enamored of him that you'd run us off the sidewalk."

His crooked smile reminded her that she probably wouldn't do much better. But she switched with him, giving him Sasha's leash and letting him take hold of the stroller's front wheels. He helped her carry the stroller down their stoop and to the sidewalk, and she took control of pushing, watching Castle's forearms flex as he let go of the stroller.

She bit her lip, aiming the stroller away from the street as she realized she was about to roll it right off the sidewalk. Kate sighed at herself for being so smitten with her _husband_ while she pushed her son in the stroller that she'd nearly done the thing she'd accused him of.

But it was just - when she'd wanted a family with him, she'd been thinking about how it'd feel to hold his son, to have made that for him, given him back something of the family he'd lost. She just hadn't been thinking about how it'd feel to have made it _with_ him, how it'd fill her up so overflowing that she couldn't breathe sometimes, how they'd made for each other this one true thing, this thing that made them both into better people.

She hadn't known it was possible, but her grief after her mother's death had grown more dimensions with the birth of her son. It made her more mature, more solid, more complicated; it had pushed her to be the person she ought to have been, less selfish, more compassionate. And she saw the same thing in Castle's face now, felt it when he sat beside her with James in his arms. This was the man he'd always been meant to be, husband and father, if also spy.

He was a family man. It was the mission of his life.

* * *

Castle had to admit: she'd been right.

They had all needed to get out of the house, even if the wind was brisk. Kate had pulled his sweatshirt down over her fingers, but he wasn't cold, and James was wrapped in his favorite blanket.

They sat down together on a bench in the dog park, only a few other dogs and owners nearby, and Castle took the baby out of the stroller to hold him in the crook of his arm, letting him get a little sunlight. Keep him out of the reach of other dogs.

Kate started throwing the ball for Sasha, cajoling her when she seemed unwilling to move away from them. She whined and nosed into Castle's lap, licked his fingers around James. "He's fine. You play, Sash."

The dog gave up trying to get close and raced for the ball, as if wanting to get it over with. But when she came back, James was watching.

Even though Sasha hadn't seemed willing to move very far away from her new packmate, James found her game of fetch so amusing that the wolf began to entertain them all. The baby got excited whenever Sasha came bounding back to them, and it turned into a game that they all played for his benefit.

Kate threw the ball for the wolf, and then Sasha would go get it only to dash back to them, eager and intent, running straight for James, and the baby would squeal, feet kicking.

"Sasha, puppy, you're making a fool of yourself for him," Kate chided softly, smiling at the dog.

"Yeah, aren't we all though?" Castle said.

Kate laughed, her eyes squinting in the sunlight. He felt grateful to have this afternoon with her, grateful she'd forced it. She was a smart woman.

"All right, James likes it. Let's keep going." Kate wriggled the ball from Sasha's mouth and threw it again, starting the game all over again.

Only when James fell asleep mid-fetch did the game stop. Sasha came in close and dropped the ball at Kate's feet, nuzzled in against Castle on the bench so that her wet nose skimmed over James's outflung arm.

The baby didn't wake. In fact, his mouth dropped open, cheeks pink in the cool air, the boy apparently completely worn out.

Sasha carefully licked James's fingers and settled down under the bench, unwilling to move away.

Castle grinned and looked to Kate, she was smiling down at the dog too. "She really likes him. She's good with him."

"She's protective of him," Kate said. She leaned in against his shoulder, tilted her head to the sun and closed her eyes. "Mm. Thanks for letting us out, babe."

He sighed, shaking his head at her word choice, but it was probably pretty accurate. He needed to loosen up a little.

Castle kissed the sun-drenched curve of her cheek and she smiled, lashes lifting to look at him.

"Sit here for a few minutes with me?" she murmured.

"Of course," he whispered. "Long as you want, sweetheart."

* * *

Kate had their son all alone with the morning.

The sunlight was blocked from view by the heavy drapes and the closed blinds, which was a good thing since they liked sleep, but each of them, apparently, had a hard time staying that way.

"But you slept a long time, didn't you, Jay?" She brushed a kiss over his forehead, the warmth of his skin so appealing. He hadn't been damp with sleep-sweat this morning when she'd heard him fussing; in fact his fingers and nose had been cold. "I'll put you back in those long pajamas, how about that?"

James yawned, fists at his face as his body squirmed slowly.

She adored him; she hadn't thought she'd love him so much. The way she loved Castle was - different. She loved Castle out of her own brokenness, a triumph of fate and need colliding in the midst of dark tragedy. Love for Castle had been built out of rubble.

But she loved James with light and ease and beauty. She loved James because he was Castle's son, because she had carried him for nine months and he had decided to stay despite how rocky it might have been for him, and finally, she loved James because he was James.

There was so much wrapped up in that name, their visions for the future and their hope for life, but also their son, their little boy, and he had his own personality and identity.

She cupped his small head in her palm and brushed her thumb over his dark hair, thin and always spiking over his scalp. His eyes were the grey of wolves in winter, and she hoped they stayed. So like his daddy's eyes. He had her long limbs; her father had said she had the same shaped face too.

Funny enough, but he looked skinnier now than he had when he'd been born. Maybe he'd grown in length a little, but he had stick arms and pointy knees and an angular face and he was adorable.

He was just beginning to wake, still groggy with his first full-night of sleep. Or almost. He'd woken once around three that morning, but he'd fallen back asleep before she could feed him much more than a drop. He had to be so hungry, but he wasn't crying, wasn't angry with her. He just opened his eyes slowly and connected.

He adored her; she could see it already. His little fist came up against her wrist as she cupped his head and his fingers splayed out as if reaching for her.

"Hey, my sweet boy," she murmured, her heart broken and filled at the same time. "You're mine, aren't you? You and me, James. We had a deal, huh, baby, and here you are now. You did so good, sweetheart. We both hung on."

James squirmed and his mouth opened, his tongue working at his gums and something so earnest about him that she knew, she knew he understood her. Maybe not the words, but the love. He knew. He'd never doubt how much she had wanted him. Did want him.

She leaned in and kissed his cheeks, humming when his fingers caught her hair and she had to untangle, balancing him against a drawn-up knee. She tucked her hair behind her ear and shimmied her over-large shirt down one shoulder, angling the baby against her.

James latched on, already sucking hard. She let out a breath, wincing as James got greedy, and she leaned her head back against the headboard and glanced at a sleeping Castle.

"Ouch," she muttered, jerking as James bit her. "Shit. Okay, I know you're hungry, but that's not cool."

James didn't even stop this time; he even nuzzled harder into her and she had flick his ear to get him to calm down.

"Not going anywhere," she whispered, stroking her fingers down the spike of his hair. "I won't take it away from you. Ow, ow, stop."

Kate felt the baby's gums practically gnawing on her and she had to tug sharply on James's ear, startling him from his feeding. He opened his eyes and gave her a strange look, bewildered, but she hunched over him and brushed her lips to his forehead.

"It's okay, just no biting, baby."

James latched on, this time maybe a little more cautiously, and she drew her knees up to sit cross-legged in the bed. She watched the baby nurse, loving the way his lashes fought hard against the drag of sleep. She stroked his cheek and he sucked fiercely, falling off once more towards drowsiness. She did it again, her finger against his cheek, and he roused valiantly, making her laugh.

His eyes startled open at the sound from her, staring up into her face.

"Hey, little wolf. You might want to finish. I know you're hungry."

"For the last couple days, he's been eating like you do," Castle rumbled from beside her.

She lifted her head and saw his eyes were still closed, but he was moderately awake. "Oh yeah?" She had no idea what that meant.

"He grazes all day long."

She laughed softly and she felt James stir again, sucking hard as he stared up at her. "You're right. I hadn't been paying attention, but he's been feeding every couple hours again."

Castle grumbled and turned into her side, his eyes opening to land on her first, and then dropping his gaze to his son. He stroked his finger over James's head and then looked up at her again. "I fed him twice during the night."

She stared at him. "You did? I thought he'd slept through. I woke at three when I heard him mewling - but he only ate a little."

"Yeah," Castle rasped. "And the night before, it was every two hours."

Kate blinked and glanced back down at James. "I - missed that. I thought it was just that once."

"Naw, I've been keeping track," Castle said, sitting up now. "He's started going backwards."

And he was so _hungry_. Every two hours all night through, and yet he went at her like he'd been starving all night. She reached out and circled her finger and thumb around his skinny little arm, her heart tripping.

"Going backwards," she echoed.

"Yeah, that second week he was home - you remember - he was at every four hours. He even went five a couple nights in a row. Now he's going the wrong way - every two hours."

She didn't want to ask if something was wrong, like asking would put it out there. She stared down at James and didn't even tug his ear when he bit her again in his haste to feed.

"But I looked it up," Castle went on, nuzzling his way against her. He laid his chin on her shoulder and looked down at the baby. "Sometimes they hit a growth spurt and feed all the time because they need the calories and nutrients. You know? Makes sense. Why his arms are skinny little sticks. Just growing fast."

Kate swallowed and let out a breath, rubbed her thumb down that skinny stick arm. "Yeah. Makes sense," she sighed, smiling now into James's roving eyes. "You're already growing big, huh, baby?"

Castle hummed and pressed a kiss to her shoulder. "He likes the sound of your voice, too. Did you notice? When you laugh especially. See? Look at how he watches you. He's entranced."

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head at him, but oh, she knew. She'd seen it. How he oriented to her, his little body excited when she came in the room, his eyes trained on her face. When she picked him up, he cuddled up against her, as if he wanted to melt down into her skin.

She was entranced too. It was mutual.

"He's a smart boy," Castle said proudly. "He's got good taste."

Kate laughed, reached out to run her fingers through Castle's hair. "Love you too."

Castle lifted up and kissed her on the mouth. Intently, deeply, banishing her worry with the warmth of his love.


	9. Chapter 9

**Close Encounters 20**

* * *

She was asleep, curled at his hip as he sat up in bed. James had fussed and woken up, apparently hungry but not too concerned about it. He seemed to be assured of his eventually getting fed, so long as he was being held. Like one necessitated the other, and James was content to wait it out. Or maybe the boy wasn't a morning person; he looked sleepy still.

Which was good. Castle thought Kate could use another hour of sleep too; she had perpetual dark circles under her eyes. And, truthfully, he couldn't put his son down. He just couldn't stop holding him, staring at him, every chance he had.

Castle was a father.

He couldn't believe he'd almost missed the boy's birth. Nearly six weeks old - tomorrow - and he'd been in _France _on October 17th, half the world away. Of course, he had gone because Kate had kept reassuring him that it was too early, and he'd stupidly thought that something as huge as labor would have some pretty big warning signs.

At least he had made it back in time.

"I made it, didn't I, kid?" he said softly to his son. "I'm your dad - of course I'm going to make it. And I was the first person to hold you, and I was the one who gave you to your mother-"

"More ways than one," Kate sighed into the mattress.

He smiled and glanced her way, saw her eyes open, hair splayed around her face, gorgeous and sleepy. She sat up, slowly, and leaned against his shoulder, watching the baby from her perch.

She'd been leaning against him a lot lately. The exhaustion. Nearly falling down the stairs. He didn't know if that was normal, didn't know if the disruption to James's feeding schedule was normal, but he thought maybe they should ask.

"Hey, we have his six weeks' appointment with Dr Dennison's friend - that's tomorrow. Dr Jain."

"I remember," she smiled. It was their first time with the new guy, a pediatrician that Dennison had recommended, and he knew they were both nervous about it. Inviting someone new into the mix, into the _regimen_ as well. Dr Jain seemed completely competent and had such a sterling reputation, but the regimen made everything dicey.

"We can ask him about the feeding schedule," he offered.

"Yeah, good idea. And the growth spurt thing. Dennison said - when she came by for his ten day check-up - she said that-"

"I know," he interrupted, shrugging. "But we agreed that we couldn't afford to bring in someone else just then. In case." In case it had been really bad, in case James had needed Boyd and Threkeld immediately, skipping straight over the pediatrician. For the last six months, Boyd had been dusting up on his pediatrics, so had Logan, but Dennison had argued for a regular guy, at least in the beginning, at least until James required something more.

Tomorrow. And yeah, Castle wasn't optimistic, but that was his job. He had to protect his son, his family - his _wife_. She was part of the regimen too.

His wife who was yawning into his shoulder and stretching so widely that James had startled awake, staring at her. He even opened his mouth as if in echo.

"Hey, baby," she murmured, laughing. But she turned a kiss into Castle, her lips soft against his jaw. "Bet he's hungry."

"Yeah, I think so, he's got his tractor beams on." James had started that the last few days, staring intently at them like he was trying to _will _them to act. Locking them in with those grey ghost eyes. "Don't worry, little wolf, it's coming. Give your mom a chance to wake up."

When she was ready, Castle shifted James over into her arms and she began to nurse him. Still, Kate leaned heavily against Castle, sharing the moment. They'd been trying to feed him bottles during the nights, just so Kate could sleep, but she always wanted the mornings with him.

He understood. And the three of them in bed together was pretty peaceful, like nothing else.

"Hey, son," he murmured to the thin, small face. James was a tiny thing, his eyelashes so thick and his eyes set like Kate's; he had the look of her in the face, though she joked that he probably had his father's nose.

Castle stroked his finger over the boy's cheek and the baby turned his head into the touch, wriggling with it, seeking his warmth. When Kate was tired, she did that too, nudging like a cat.

"Stop distracting him," she chuckled, guiding James's cheek to latch on again. Castle dropped his hand to the top of her thigh and watched them, his wife sagged heavily against his side, as if the strength was draining out of her.

"Kate?"

"Hm?" She even sounded tired, like she'd fall asleep any second. But it had only been six weeks since _labor_, which hell yes was traumatic, and the alert monitor had the tendency to go off whenever James wasn't situated just right on the mat, and the feeding schedule was messed up lately, and so of course she was tired. It made sense; it really did.

Plus, the supplemental pills had been _such _a boost, no matter that she was still taking prenatal vitamins while she nursed; they weren't those supplements, weren't the carefully selected elements of the regimen that just - energized. The difference - now that she didnt have them - was going to be great.

He still had to ask.

"You okay, babe?" He turned and planted his kiss at the top of her head, burying it in her hair. The scent of mild soap laced through the honeysuckle of her lotion and he drew his arm around her, his heart suddenly in his throat.

"I'm tired," she finally answered. "Just - so tired, Rick. I didn't think it would be this exhausting - not sure I thought it all the way through, to be honest. And I guess being pregnant was so easy that this is like - shit - this is real life. You know? Hitting me pretty hard."

It was the most raw and honest admission he'd heard from her other than _I love you_. And last week's _Here's your son. _But this one didn't feel as good as those; it felt like a kind of defeat.

"Okay," he measured out. "Okay. We'll - we'll figure this out. It will be okay. The pediatrician will help, I'm sure."

"I really should be better than this. It's ridiculous," she sighed. "I just - I can't even keep my eyes open half the time."

"That's okay," he repeated. "I really think that's normal. A baby is exhausting. The appointment tomorrow, we'll just ask him about it. I'm sure it's fine. And you know, just in case, we'll talk to Boyd about it. And Dr Dennison. We'll figure it out."

"Yeah," she sighed, her cheek against his shoulder, heavy and weighted. "Yeah, we should ask them, all of them."

That she agreed so easily - it scared the shit out of him.

He just didn't want those damn pills - the regimen - to have done this to her. He didn't want that to be the case.

* * *

When Kate woke from a too-disjointed nap, she found herself alone on the couch with the late afternoon light coming through the windows. She licked her lips and swallowed, struggled off the couch.

She needed... something. This wasn't cutting it. She had to break this cycle of unfulfilling sleep and muzzy days. Had to get out of the house.

James was happy in the jumper swing they'd set up in the doorway between the kitchen and living room, and she found Castle at the kitchen table fiddling with an old laptop.

She scraped her hand through her hair and stood swaying in the living room before she came fully aware.

Fuck, she was scrambled up. This lack of sleep thing was killing her. Despite Castle heroically taking on what had turned out to be quite a lot of the night-time feedings, she was still draggy and done in.

Fresh from an unhelpful nap, she could admit there might be something more to it. It wasn't just lack of sleep. Her body was jangling and they couldn't officially have sex until tomorrow, and if she could just hold out until then...

"Castle," she rasped.

He turned in the chair and lifted an eyebrow in question.

"I need to run."

He laughed, smirking a little at the end of it. Yeah, she heard how that sounded, but he knew her. It wasn't run away, just _move._

"Go run," he said. "James has two more bottles waiting in the fridge. We're good."

She still hesitated. Felt like she shouldn't be running. But she needed... something. A chance to _go_.

"Okay," she said.

He glanced up from the laptop again, tilted his head at her. His eyes were sharply blue in the golden, afternoon light.

"Okay, I'm going," she smiled slowly.

He smiled back. "Love you."

He really, really did.

* * *

She didn't know where Castle was. Or the baby.

When she'd shucked her tennis shoes and swiped the sweat off the back of her neck, the house felt temporarily abandoned. Not empty, just waiting.

Kate moved to the entry way and paused at the bottom of the stairs, listened for her boys. She couldn't hear them, and though James was a quiet thing, she would often catch Castle talking up a storm to him when he thought he was alone. She was pretty sure they weren't upstairs.

Living room was empty. Kate kicked her shoes towards the closet, yanked off her socks and threw them after. She curled sweat-licked strands of hair behind her ears. Her body felt buzzing and strange after so long without hard work, but in a good way. She took the dining room shortcut that had turned into baby central station, and she came through to the empty kitchen.

The light was red-streaked lonely sunset, but she spotted the full laundry basket at the top of the basement stairs, the door open.

She stepped over it and went down, found Castle in the panic room with James held in the crook of his arm. The boy was squirming and fussy, but Castle softly bounced him as he scrolled through the security checks on the computers.

"So," Kate said slowly, trying not to laugh. "I leave my guys for an hour to go running and it's time for the panic room?"

Castle lifted his head with a grin. "Looks like it."

She came forward, the sweat still clinging to her skin and steaming in the relative chill of the basement. She kissed the soft spot on her son's head and then curled her fingers around Castle's shoulder, tugging him in for a kiss of his own.

"Rick, love, what are you doing down here?"

"I forgot all of this stuff needed updating," he shrugged. "James was missing you and I finished the work on the laptop, and it reminded me, so I came down here with him. A little distraction."

"You - um - okay. Sweetheart, you've wrapped him in what looks like four blankets _plus_ his winter coat. Which is like a stay-puff marshmallow man."

"It gets damp down here," he defended.

Kate bit her bottom lip. "Yes, yes, it does. You're so right." She cast a look at poor James and finally took him out of his cautious father's arms. "Okay, my little wolf, I know. Daddy wanted you to be warm."

"I think you're making fun of me. In front of our kid."

Kate grinned and lifted her eyes to him. "Don't worry - what did you say? He's too young to know the difference."

"The _tone_-"

"Oh, whatever," she laughed, lifting up to kiss him hard. "You're sweet. And a little intense, you know."

"I know. But he was cold. His fingers and his nose were chilled even upstairs."

Kate glanced to James, a flicker of awareness struggling through that wouldn't quite connect. She gave up and turned back to Castle. "Come on, leave the computers to update and help me unwrap our marshmallow. He's hungry. As usual."

"Fine. Make fun. See if I care. James appreciates it, staying nice and toasty."

Kate cupped the back of James's head and cradled him up against her shoulder. "Here we go. Come on."

James's head bobbed against her shoulder as she mounted the stairs, and she knew he was watching his Daddy following them. His little body got excited, and he started making noises, almost like he was trying to talk.

Making that connection.

She had a feeling that Castle was making faces at him over her shoulder, and she was distracted by it, and then the dog was rushing past her legs to get back upstairs, Sasha whom she hadn't even noticed down there, and it completely caught her off guard.

So completely that she forgot the laundry basket.

Kate stepped right into it, her bare toes catching the decorative holes in the side, torquing her foot as she stumbled. She gasped, but Castle grunted her name in warning and reached out to catch her and the baby both, yanking her hard back against his chest - and tearing her foot out of the basket's side.

"Oh, God," she moaned.

"Kate. Shit. Kate, are you okay?"

"I think I broke my foot," she gasped, swallowing hard, her arms shaky around the baby. Her foot pulsed heat, crawling under her skin with pain.

"Shit, I'm sorry. I left the damn laundry basket. That's my fault. Fuck, come here, let me-"

"Take - take him-"

"No, no, I got you." And then Castle was scooping her up into his arms and carrying her through the kitchen to the Ugly Couch.

Her foot was mangled agony. Serious, debilitating agony. Holy fuck. How could broken toes hurt so badly?

She'd scared James; he was mewling against her neck and she had to get her shit together and loosen her arms, pat his back. "It's okay, okay, it's okay," she murmured, her voice still shaky. It was not okay; fuck, it hurt.

Sasha was whining now, and Castle was on his knees before her, gently catching hold of her ankle, studying her foot.

"Oh, fuck," he muttered. "You're bleeding. Oh, shit, Kate. Hang on. Can you keep holding him-?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she chanted, cupping the back of James's neck, still bundled up in his coat and winter clothes. She brushed a kiss to the baby's cheek just to keep from crying herself, began to slowly ease her fingers into his coat to take it off. Distract herself.

Castle had darted to the basement stairs and she heard him thumping down hard, racing for the first aid kit they kept in the panic room. She didn't want to look at her foot; it hurt in a way that felt really wrong.

She swallowed back the urge to be sick, realized that for a while now, she'd been feeling really wrong. The running had given her a burst of energy, but it hadn't been a good run. And now this.

Castle came pounding back up the stairs and burst into the kitchen, startling poor James who was still hungry and trying to wriggle down to find her, not happy with her undressing him.

"I'm gonna have to bandage this, Kate, honey, to stop the bleeding. You're going to need stitches. And I think you broke a couple of toes. So it's-"

"Going to hurt like hell?" she muttered. "Yeah, already does. Go for it."

"Um. Let me take James."

She cracked open an eye and glanced at his pale face. She'd never seen him look at her like that. Oh, actually - that time in Russia. Well a fucking broken foot wasn't Russia.

"Here," she muttered, offering the baby over.

James wasn't happy about being separated from her, but Castle put him in the bouncing swing - he was, at least, now coatless - and Castle started the swing, getting James quiet and, if not happy, then attentive enough to stop mewling.

Kate made faces at him and he startled, looking like he might laugh if he possibly could.

And then Castle bound her foot.

She yelped and jerked, and James cried out as if in sympathy, and Kate clutched the edge of the couch cushion and stared down at Castle.

James whimpered from the swing and Kate's heart thrashed in her chest with the pulsing flare of pain.

"Fuck, that really hurt," she said raggedly.

"Yeah," he winced. "You're going to need stitches. I'm going to call someone from the office to come out. And then - we'll probably have to take you to get x-rays, babe. You might need a walking boot."

She sucked in a breath to keep from passing out, swallowed hard past the terrible taste in her mouth.

And then she admitted the truth. "I think we need to call Boyd. I think... I think there's something really wrong here."

Castle stared up at her, his mouth dropping open and his face blanching.

She glanced to James in the swing, his pitiful face, his too-skinny face. "It's occurred to me," she started quietly, her eyes on the baby for courage, "that if he's going through a growth spurt, he's not doing any growing. And I'm - not enough for him."

"What?" Castle croaked. "You're _exactly_-"

"I mean. I kicked a laundry basket and broke my whole foot, Castle. I can't stay awake. I can't fall asleep either. I'm falling on the stairs and my arms will go weak and when I went running just now - I had to sit down and put my head between my knees twice."

"Kate," he rasped.

"And - and Castle - I'm pretty sure that it shouldn't be _possible _for me to sleep eight hours and not wake up needing to breastfeed. But I've been having trouble and I don't think he's getting full lately, and that's maybe why he wakes up so often, and I'm not sure I'm doing this right."

"Kate," he croaked. "God."

She finally looked at him. "I stopped taking the pills the day he was born. You know that, right? You believe me? Because I-"

"I know, love. I know you did. I-" He stopped, face going blank with shock. "Oh, shit. Oh, fuck. That's what you mean. No pills. And so James..."

She saw him look at the baby, really look, the always hungry and the thinning face and how he wasn't sleeping like he had been.

"He needs more than I'm giving him," she said finally. "And he's taking all of what I do have."

Castle bowed his head. "I read - when I read about the growth spurt." He lifted his head and gave her a stone-eyed look. "When I read - it said that you should be sure you don't stop the prenatal vitamins. For yourself. But not once did I make the connection with the damn pills. Fuck, I'm an idiot."

Oh, that made her feel better. Despite the way her foot pulsed and burned, bound by the gauze. It was natural, really. James needed extra nutrients right now from her - and hadn't he all his adorable parasitic life? If the baby book was saying _take the prenatal vitamins _then they should be able to fix this with the pills. Right?

She smiled at Castle. "Okay, then. That's what we do. Call Boyd, sweetheart. And somebody to stitch up my toes. I feel like shit; we need to fix this."

Castle scraped a hand down his face but he stood up, moved as if in a dream.

"Castle," she called softly, trying to ease his way.

He turned to look at her; he looked devastated.

"Castle, love," she murmured. "Hand me the baby. Let me feed him before he really starts to cry. He's looking kinda pathetic over there."

And Castle turned mechanically towards the baby in the swing, but the moment he got his hands on James, that abstraction crumbled. He cradled the boy against his chest and kissed the top of his head; he looked both overwhelmed and grateful.

When he handed James to her, he softly kissed her cheek. "You're an amazing woman. And we're going to take care of this. I'm going to take care of this. Of you, Kate. I promise."

* * *

Castle cradled the baby against his chest, standing just outside of the kitchen where Boyd and Logan had set up a makeshift radiology station. He cupped the back of James's head and brushed his lips over the soft fuzz of dark hair, watching Logan stitch Kate's toes.

She looked bad.

Logan was grim and Boyd was setting up plates around the kitchen chair she had her foot propped on, plates to bounce the x-rays off of. The portable x-ray machine looked like nothing more than a white digital camera, a little big maybe, but nothing special.

James whimpered against him and Castle braced his head by spreading wide his fingers, letting the pressure of his forearm reassure the baby. "It's okay," he murmured. "Mommy's okay."

"Castle," she called.

He took a half-step into the kitchen and she lifted her head from her hand, smiling at him. Trying to reassure him.

"Grab a couple bottles from the fridge and try to feed him," she said, biting her bottom lip. She glanced down at Logan as if for confirmation. Logan shrugged. She sighed and looked back at Castle. "I've already taken a prenatal and one of the supplements. We can test the milk after an hour or so and see - ow. Ow, Logan."

Castle missed whatever it was Logan said to her because James mewled, his face twisting into the most pitiful look. He kept the baby close and headed back through the living room and around to the dining room, entering the kitchen that way. James seemed to sense the tension around him, and he wasn't happy.

"Hey, you're okay," he murmured into his son's ear. "You're okay and Mommy's okay too. All right? I'm gonna get you a bottle and you'll feel better."

He heard his voice crack at the end of that statement, his heart twisting. The idea that for the last few weeks James had been... starving. He'd been starving, malnourished, not getting enough.

"Agent Castle?"

He paused as he opened the fridge door, glanced over at Boyd who had detached himself from Logan and Kate.

"Yeah?"

"Blood tests are... not so good," Dr Boyd said, rubbing his hand over his bald spot. "We should've been following her more closely, and I'm sorry for that. She's lost calcium, the anemia is severe, and-"

"Because of - of the breastfeeding?" he asked, cupping his hand at James's ear as if he could shield the boy from it.

"That's our current theory, yes," Boyd answered. "We'd like to do a blood test on James."

Castle flinched and the baby whimpered against him; he avoided Boyd's look and reached for the bottle, popped off the top and pushed it into the warmer. He tried not to think about it as he heated up the bottle, his hand curling around James's neck and holding him close.

"Richard?"

He grit his teeth and finally looked at Boyd. "Did Kate say-"

"She said to ask you."

"A needle?"

"A quick prick on the bottom of his foot. He'll never remember this later, you know. It will give us a baseline to work from, find out how much James needs, what he's not getting."

James's thin little body was so light against Castle's chest. Like a helpless bird instead of the grey wolf. He softly kissed the boy's temple. "Okay. You can draw his blood. Kate?" he called.

She was biting her bottom lip, evidently waiting on his word. "Boyd wants you to wait to feed him and they'll draw blood. And then after he gets the bottle, they'll do it again."

Fuck. Just the idea made him feel sick. "And you?"

"Logan's stitched up my toes. They're going to do x-rays and see how many are broken."

"No, I mean... what are you going to need? What extra vitamins and stuff?"

Kate looked to be at a loss. He knew how she felt. It didn't seem like this was a good idea, but what else was there?

"I'll just keep taking the supplements," she said slowly.

"And we'll wean him. Soon as we can."

"Castle," she sighed.

"You can't keep - he really _is_ a little parasite, Kate. You can't-"

"He's our son," she said harshly, straightening up in the chair and glaring at him.

He flushed and wished they weren't having this conversation in front of Boyd and Logan with the whole kitchen between them. "I know that," he gritted out. "What I'm saying is - he's taking more from you than you should give. We can concoct some kind of formula for him. Right, Logan? We can put stuff in the formula-"

"Castle, right now he needs me," she said. "Can we not - get into this right now? Let's work on getting both of us squared away, balance his needs with mine, and then we'll look at alternatives, okay?"

No. No, it was not okay. She couldn't keep - James could take some damn formula and then Kate wouldn't be ingesting something that was a known poison for fuck's sake.

But James was mewling against his collarbone, his mouth open and his body squirming, and the warmer was done and he was supposed to bare his son to the needle so he could get his blood tested.

It wasn't okay, but it's what had to be done.

"Rick," she said softly.

He glanced to Logan, and the man met his eyes with a soft nod. Castle growled and shifted James to the crook of his arm, turned to Boyd. "Fine. Let's get this over with quickly so I can feed him. He's hungry."

Hungry? He was _starving._

* * *

Three broken toes later - thank God the bones of her _foot_ only seemed to be swollen from the trauma and not broken as well - Kate was ensconced on the couch with her foot propped up on Castle's lap.

James wasn't happy, but the moment she gathered him from Castle and held him against her chest, both of them reclining against the arm of the couch, the baby seemed to settle. She brushed her lips across his head, over and over, calming him down.

Logan had given her a local in between her toes as he'd stitched the three lacerations; she had fifteen stitches along the webbing of her toes. Her foot felt fat and hot with it, but Castle had cradled ice against her skin and it seemed better.

Before they'd x-rayed her foot, Castle had been hovering right against her side with the baby restless and mewling in his arms. The degree of patheticness the three of them had made was rather sorry, but she could admit she'd needed it. Made her stronger, somehow, to know both of them had needed her to put on a brave face.

"You okay?" she asked him now. He didn't look okay. He looked sick.

"No," he said. "Not okay."

"What do you need-"

"I think maybe you're shouldn't be asked to give any more than you're already giving, Kate."

She smiled softly at him and dug her uninjured heel into his thigh, her fingers curling around James's skull. "Thank you for taking care of my baby," she said softly. "For being so calm. Being a good daddy."

He shot her a self-deprecating look, rubbed a hand down his face. "I don't know that I can claim that one."

"Hey," she said, nudging his thigh with her good foot. "Castle." Behind her she could hear Logan and Boyd working together at the kitchen table, their little makeshift lab as they debated the results of the bloodwork. The whole pediatrician thing was up in the air too. "Castle. Both of us, we didn't know any better. Okay? How could we have known? We're doing the best we can."

She wasn't used to being the one with all the optimism. He gave her a swift smile but it looked more fragile than she liked.

Castle had given James two bottles within the last two hours, and the boy had at least stopped whimpering. God, he was so skinny. It wasn't right. How had she let herself be so blind?

"Kate," he sighed.

She pressed her lips together, sighed back at him. Apparently her optimism had a shelf life.

"You just said it," he said quietly. "We're doing the best we can. Now we know, and we'll do what has to be done to make it right. Keep _both_ of you healthy."

He stressed it because he knew her, but she wasn't interested in sacrificing herself when she wanted _in_ on this, their family. She didn't want to be sacrificed; she wanted to hold her son and know he was healthy and growing and that he'd have his mother and father right there with him. All of them together.

"Come down here," she told him. "Castle, crawl in with me."

He lifted an eyebrow but she slowly lifted her foot from his lap.

"Put a pillow under it and get down here with me," she told him again. "James needs us both."

Castle let out a shaky sigh and gently eased one of the pillows under her foot, shifted back between her body and the couch, one of his arms around her neck. She carefully moved against him, letting James be cradled between their chests, and the baby immediately got quiet.

"See?" she whispered to Castle. "Takes both of us."

Castle lifted a hand and softly touched James's ear, stroked the baby's vulnerable neck. James watched him, eyes intent and so clear-grey, so startlingly innocent. His little mouth opened and a wide yawn cracked his face, his eyes falling shut.

"Sleep, baby," Kate whispered.

At the same time, she and Castle leaned in over the baby to kiss his sweet face, and their heads bumped, laughter spilling out of them. She chuckled and winced at Castle and he cupped her cheek, rubbing his thumb lightly over her forehead.

She felt James's little body melt against her, like the very last of his unsettled tension - the bad vibes he'd picked up on tonight - had finally disappeared.

And then Castle leaned in and kissed her instead, his lips so soft and delicate, so wistful.

Kate shifted slowly and laid her head against his chest, closing her own eyes so she could listen to the beat of Castle's heart and feel the soft breath of their baby between them.

* * *

Probably wasn't safe to let James stay in the crook of Kate's arm when she was asleep, so Castle gathered the baby against him, moving slowly to keep from waking his son.

Kate slept through it, which was good, or maybe bad, depending. He wasn't sure. Her foot looked better, though that could be from the pills Boyd had brought with him which she had ingested nearly three hours ago.

Castle cupped the back of James's skull and shifted the boy to his shoulder; he was a warm and heavy weight against him, and Castle realized just how chilled the baby had been lately, how his little fingers and his cheeks had been cool to the touch. Wondered if it was the same kind of reaction he himself had when his fingers got numb.

He carried the baby into the kitchen and walked right into Boyd's makeshift lab.

"Hello, there, Agent Castle, we-"

Castle lifted a hand from the back of the baby's head and gestured to the boy. Boyd immediately hunched his shoulders and lowered his voice, wincing at Castle.

"Sorry, sorry-"

"It's okay. Just - what's up with Kate? Any ideas?"

"Working theory is that in these first few - ah, months or so? We're letting the timeline be fluid here. Months or even the first five years, while his brain is still developing, Echo will need-"

Boyd flushed and his eyes cut to the baby, as if he'd made some gross social faux pas.

"Hey," Castle chuckled, keeping his voice low so that he wouldn't wake James. "Don't worry. Echo's fine. You heard me earlier - we still call him our jungle parasite, so at least Echo won't put him in therapy."

"Ah, yes."

"And anyway, it keeps the lab stuff separate from - well, life. Doesn't it?"

Boyd blinked, as if the concept of life being separate from lab was impossible. And hadn't Boyd said maybe for the next _five __years_?Castle made up his mind and shifted the baby towards the doctor.

"Here. Hold him. Maybe life and lab should come together."

It'd been _his_ life, once upon a time, and maybe that was his problem with this. He'd been forced to believe that the experiment was all that existed, that the experiment was all he could ever have, all he was built for.

And then Kate. Kate had blown open his whole life. Kate _was_ life.

But he was finding out - that didn't mean that the experiment was over.

It went on, right here, like this. And what was wrong with it? If they needed it to augment their life, enhance their life, what was wrong with that? James needed what he needed, and Castle wouldn't begrudge him of it.

"You gonna hold him?" Castle asked Boyd. He was still holding James towards the man, and now the baby was starting to squirm into wakefulness, missing the close contact and the sound of a heartbeat.

Boyd finally put the computer tablet back on the kitchen table and offered his hands, palms up, his eyes apprehensive. Castle had to do the transition, positioning Boyd's arms and then laying the baby in them.

"What do I do?" Boyd whispered.

Logan was watching them from the kitchen counter near the fridge; he was physically making the pills, combining things in a mortar and crushing them to fine powder with the pestle.

"What am I supposed to do?" Boyd said again.

Castle and Logan's eyes met and Castle tried not to laugh. But it was funny. "You just - hold him. Bring him up against your chest. He likes the warmth. The closeness."

"Oh." Boyd brought the boy in and glanced to Logan as if to say, _look I'm doing it_. Logan saluted him with the pestle and turned back to work, but Castle moved his direction, abandoning Boyd to the baby.

Or maybe abandoning James to Boyd.

At the counter, Castle turned his back on Boyd, certain it was better not to see whatever awkward and bewildered event was taking place behind him, and Logan laughed at him.

"He's doing okay, but yeah, newby parent. You don't want to watch."

Castle resisted the urge to look over his shoulder. Just because the boy was out of his hands didn't mean that he wasn't being taken care of. "What's the plan, Logan?"

"We're making her new pills. They're going to have to be exactly like what we gave her before, and after a week, we'll test Echo and see if it's working."

"A week? What about Kate?"

"Daily blood tests until it looks like things have settled."

Castle nodded, his heart easing finally. There was a plan in place; they were going to do something about it, about the baby and the nutrients that they both needed.

"How's her bloodwork?" Castle asked.

"Not so hot," Logan winced. "She was fine at the last appointment, the two week. Well, okay, we didn't do a bone density scan. That would have told us. And Dennison said she was fine at the four week."

"Bone density scan would have told you that she was malnourished?"

Logan sighed, put the pestle down. "Yeah. We should have - I just didn't think it through. That's on me, Rick. I-"

"Joint effort," Castle muttered. "This one."

"Her daily blood test - full panel - will help us monitor both of them, so we don't have to keep sticking the kid."

"Echo," Castle smiled. And he looked over his shoulder towards his son and saw Boyd holding him so carefully, so carefully, and sitting down at the kitchen table with him, away from the equipment.

"We'll get this under control, Castle, I promise."

"Feels like it's mostly there," Castle answered, turning back to Logan. "Thank you. For coming out here."

"Mary called," Logan told him. "Dennison said that she'll meet us at the lab in the city this weekend. I told her we had this covered, but if you want Kate to see her sooner-"

"I'll call her," Castle said. Yeah, they might have it handled, but he wanted her doctor in on this one. Definitely. "Thanks, Logan."

"Yeah. Now go get your kid before Boyd's arms give out. So unnatural."

Castle laughed and glanced back again, saw that Boyd was holding James so stiffly that the baby had woken up, apparently sensing that he was in a precarious position.

"Yeah, better go relieve him."


	10. Chapter 10

**Close Encounters 20**

* * *

When Kate woke, Castle was brushing the backs of his fingers against her cheek. She sucked in a breath and sat up, disoriented.

"Hey," he murmured.

"Time's it?" she scraped out, swallowing hard.

"Nearly four. You slept hard."

"The pills," she admitted. Once when she'd forgotten two days worth of pills, she'd slept like this when she'd taken one again on the third day. Like Castle slept after an injection. She wasn't sure that was a good thing.

"Yeah," he answered. His arms were empty and she glanced past him for the baby.

But Logan was heading towards her with a roll of bright pink PT tape and a grimace. "You mind?"

Castle moved out of the way and allowed Logan to sink down in front of her. Still she looked for James, her chest aching now with something sharp.

"Yeah, he's in with Boyd. He probably needs to be fed," Castle answered.

"Boyd has him?"

Logan laughed. Now that her foot wasn't quite so swollen, he was looking at it more thoroughly, carefully consulting the x-rays they'd taken.

"Boyd," Castle confirmed. "I'll get him."

Castle left the living room and headed for the kitchen and Kate winced when Logan started taping her toes.

"Well, here's the deal," he told her. "Can't do a cast or anything on your toes. This pinky toe here has two breaks - at the tip and in the middle - and the toe beside it has one break at the base."

"So you're - ouch, Logan - inexpertly taping my toes together?"

"Inexpert, my ass," Logan said. "But yes. Taping these two to a third toe to help keep them splinted. Plus, see? I've put this little plastic stick in between these two as well."

"Shit, I really did a number on my foot."

"You really did. The stitches are down here too, in between these little toes, so I'm trying to be careful. But Kate..."

"I know. The pills will probably mean-"

"I don't _know_ what they'll mean," Logan hissed. His hands shook for a second and he stopped.

Kate finally understood. With what the pills gave her, maybe her toes would heal over too fast for the stitches - maybe. But James was taking a lot of that back out of her. "Did you tell Castle this?"

"Yes," Logan answered, his jaw working.

Shit. "Is Castle... okay?"

"You should probably be asking him that."

Chastened, Kate sank back against the couch cushions. "Right. Why is James with Boyd?"

"Because your husband thinks it's amusing to make Boyd squirm."

Kate laughed, the noise escaping before she could control it. Castle came back through with the baby at that moment, and James practically leaned out for her, a little desperate.

She took the baby and cuddled him against her shoulder, but James was hungry and didn't like that at all. He mewled and tried to squirm down against her, rooting, but she was glad to hear that already he sounded more demanding and less pitiful.

Not starving, at least. Just hungry.

"Okay, okay," she murmured into the top of his head, kissing his soft hair. "Almost, baby. Let Logan finish taping my toes."

"There," Logan said. "Done. You should keep off your foot as much as possible, but when you do - please try to walk normally. Otherwise, you'll do damage to the ligaments and tendons."

Right. Kate was already fumbling at her shirt, and Logan grunted and beat a hasty retreat. Castle sank down beside her on the couch and brushed his fingers over the top of James's head, soothing him.

James latched on and _hummed_, warm contentment easing into his little body. His lashes blinked furiously and she could _feel_ it, feel it against her skin.

She glanced up at Castle. "Have they tested his blood yet to check?"

"They will after you nurse him," Castle said. "If everything's okay, then..."

Then that was it. Crisis averted.

Kate cupped the back of James's head and slowly rubbed her thumb against his ear. He was happy, a sweet baby, and his little fingers were splayed against the slope of her breast as he nursed.

Warm little fingers. Warm ears. Already she'd given him what he needed.

* * *

"How's he doing?" she murmured.

Castle turned his head and cupped the side of her face, pressed her cheek to his as she peered over his shoulder at the baby. "You shouldn't be on your foot," he whispered.

"I'll get back in bed in a second," she said softly.

"Kate?"

She hooked her arm around his neck and he felt her leaning against the back of the rocking chair. "It hurts," she admitted. "I could use some ice when James is done feeding."

He had to quell his instinct to jump up and get her ice right now. But he wanted James to sleep, and he wanted Kate to sleep, and her priority wasn't going to be herself when James was right here blinking up at them, slowly feeding from the bottle.

"Sit down, sweetheart," he murmured, scratching his fingers at her scalp and tugging her hair just a little. "At least right here, stay off it."

"Mm," she sighed. But she did sink down beside the chair - not what he'd intended when the bed was close - and leaned her head against the padded side of the rocking chair. James tried to lift his head to look at her, kicked out with his foot, and Kate grinned and caught the boy's ankle, kissing the sock.

"He's warm again," Castle murmured.

She grinned wider and lifted her eyes to him. "He is - I noticed that too. And sleepy. I had to wake him last time."

"Yeah," he whispered. "I did this time too." He had a hold of the bottle with the arm cradling James's head, giving him a free hand to card his fingers through Kate's hair. She hummed and leaned against the chair again, her eyes slipping closed.

It was only midnight; they had a long night ahead of them. Feedings every two hours, but checking on James every thirty minutes, being sure he was breathing and warm. Checking on Kate had been part of his rounds as well, though that wasn't strictly necessary. He just felt better holding her close, feeling her heart beating against her skin as she slept. Strict schedule, but it was worth it.

"Drink up, baby," Kate said suddenly.

She reached out and stroked her fingers over the boy's skull, swirling across his forehead and down to his cheek. It caused James to startle awake, suck on the bottle again, working furiously as he stared at his mother.

"There you go," she whispered. "I know you're tired, but you gotta eat for us. Just for tonight. Then we'll let you sleep as much as you need. Yeah, good boy."

Castle couldn't take his eyes off of her, how beautiful she was, how her love shone in her eyes and filled everything, the room and the night and his body so that he was bursting with her.

He curled his arm and caught his fingers roughly in her hair, unable to help himself, bringing his lips down to brush across her temple.

"Love you too, Castle," she murmured.

He took a long breath of the scent of her hair and the night-sleep warmth of her, and then he let her go to finish giving the boy his bottle. In the morning, they'd check Kate's blood levels and if everything was right, then she'd be able to nurse again.

* * *

Kate slept through the next feeding, but Castle, bringing the baby downstairs with him to grab a fresh bottle and heat it up, thought to bring new ice back with him. He fed James standing up, a bag of frozen broccoli on the stair landing so that he wouldn't forget, the moonlight splaying around him as it came through the windows to either side of the door.

James was so tired, poor thing. Every two hours a feeding meant that the boy, at four in the morning, wanted only to sleep. It was taking Castle longer to get through the bottle, and he hated being away from Kate.

But she needed sleep too.

"Come on, James Beckett. You need to finish it off, okay? Stuff's good for you and Mommy's sacrificing a lot so you can have it. So come on. Wake up, little wolf. Sorry, but you have to stay awake for a little longer."

James struggled against sleep, he really did seem to try, but it was a constant battle. He'd doze off in the middle of sucking and the milk would leak around his lips, his lashes falling, beautiful in a heartbreaking way, and then Castle would have to softly blow in his face or jostle him in his arms or nudge the bottle.

James would rouse and try valiantly again, but now this time, he was asleep. He was done.

Half the bottle was gone.

"Castle?"

He glanced up and saw her at the top of the stairs, leaning against the railing. She pushed a hand through her hair to scrape it off her face and blinked down at him.

"You should be in bed," he said.

"I'm okay. Oh, you got more ice. Thanks." She moved like she'd be coming downstairs for it so Castle quickly darted forward, snagging it from the landing and heading up with James in his other arm. The boy had fallen asleep but had only gotten half the bottle.

"I think that's all he'll manage," he told her quietly, meeting her at the second step from the top. She glanced at James and nodded, turning around now to go back to bed.

"Maybe so."

"I'll put him back to bed - you do the same yourself," he said, handing her the bag of frozen broccoli. She gave him a tired smile as she took it, cradling the bag like he was cradling the baby, and her eyes met his as they stepped into their bedroom.

"Remember the Chinese spy?" she said, sinking down to the mattress.

"What? Yeah, of course. First mission together." He lowered James to the cradle and touched the boy's nose, felt the whisper against his skin as James breathed.

"That was the first time you slapped a bag of frozen vegetables in my hand. And then, well..."

When he turned around, Kate had tucked her toes under the frozen broccoli, biting her bottom lip. He'd been expecting provocative, but instead what he saw was insecure, and he came straight to her on the bed, gripping the back of her neck.

She tilted her head towards him and he leaned in to softly kiss her, a brush of lips that had her sighing.

"First time," he answered, rubbing his thumb at her mouth. "First time for a lot of things." Castle smirked at her and she smiled back, still a little unsure, and he had no idea why. Except maybe it was four in the morning and exhaustion was telling her lies about herself. About not being enough.

"Lie down with me?" he said softly, nudging her back. She probably wouldn't be falling asleep while icing down her foot, but having her close in the quiet darkness would be nice.

Reassuring. Maybe to them both.

She shifted onto her hip, twisting her foot under the frozen veggies, her knees bumping his. The moment he got settled, she was curling into him, straight into his arms, and he felt her heart beating fast like she was nervous.

"Hey," he murmured, wrapping an arm around her. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," she whispered. "Nothing, I'm - no. It's okay. It will be okay. Right? Tomorrow James will be okay-"

"He's already okay, it's okay, honey. We're all okay."

She nodded against him, and he tangled his fingers in her hair, so long, soft against his hand.

He pulled her closer, kissed the ridge of her eyebrow, brushing to her ear. "Sleep, Kate. You'll feel better, we'll all feel better in the morning."

"Yeah," she sighed. Already he could feel her relaxing into sleep, maybe despite herself, but on her way.

It'd be better tomorrow - or well, a few hours from now.

* * *

When she woke, she was surprised to find that her foot wasn't the first thing she noticed. It hurt, yes, but in a dull way, as if it was a memory and not a mangled thing.

Kate turned over in bed, pleasantly relaxed, feeling less tired than she had in weeks. The sun was brilliant at the cracks of the blinds, but the light only striped along the edge of the bed, leaving them in shadow. Castle was still dead to the world, and she trailed a hand over his head, ruffling his hair as she moved to get out of bed.

She placed her foot gingerly on the floor, mindful of Logan's warning to walk normally, and the skin pulled, was a little hot and swollen, but so much better than last night.

Long night for them, what with the bloodwork and nursing every two hours until James had settled. They'd been hovering, of course, checking on James to be sure he was only sleeping, that nothing had gone wrong. She'd taken low-dose supplements every four hours for the last twenty-four, but she could take a regular pill this morning and hopefully be on track for him.

And then Dennison would be here later, a housecall, and they'd see everything was okay.

Kate glanced back to Castle and had to smile at his slack mouth, the dark shadows made by the ridge of his eyebrows. She put her fists to the mattress and leaned in to softly kiss his brow, straddling the line of his arm flung out across the bed towards her. His fingers curled as if reaching for her, his face twitched, but he didn't wake.

She kissed the warm skin at his bicep as she left the bed.

Kate turned to the side table and scooped up the bottle of pills, cracked it open and shook one out. They'd given her sixty pills with the idea that they'd make another one hundred and twenty, a six month supply. She and Castle had argued about how long she would breastfeed James now that the supplements were necessary again, but she wasn't going to give it up when it was obvious he needed so much more.

However long it took, she'd be the conduit for all those extra nutrients. Other mothers passed on antibodies in their milk, well, Kate was just going to pass on elements of the regimen.

Of course, that hadn't made Castle feel much better. But they'd compromised on a deadline: solid food. When James started eating solid food, then Kate would wean him. They could give James whatever supplements he needed in his food, crush up a vitamin in rice cereal or something.

She didn't love it, but she could see Castle's point. In six months' time, Kate would have been taking the pills for fifteen months and much longer than that just didn't seem like a good idea. She'd been pushing it at nine months, betting on her body's ability to recover from whatever side effects the pills had, but a year and a half might be harder to overcome.

But that was only if there really _was_ anything to overcome. Her dosage of supplements last night had done wonders for her broken toes; it was scary just how good her foot felt. Castle had iced it down all night, being diligent and a little bit mournful over her, but she felt good.

She stopped obsessing over it. It was just what had to be done.

When Kate had swallowed the pill dry, she got up slowly and stepped over to the cradle, being careful of her foot.

James was awake.

She leaned in over her son and her hair tumbled down. James immediately reached for the long strands, his fists tangling in her hair, and she smiled and picked him up, let him have it for now; she didn't want to test her balance by untangling him.

His body was wriggling against her, arms and feet kicking, delighted by his grip on her. His little face was so happy, so eager for the morning. Even when he'd been clearly under-nourished, he'd still been such a sweet, happy baby. He didn't cry so much as mewl like a kitten, little sounds, but now that his electrolytes had stabilized, it was so obvious James was feeling better.

"Good morning, baby," she murmured against his forehead.

She moved for the door and eased her hair out of his hands, wincing as she got it free; James babbled his indignation, kicking his feet harder. Oh, definitely feeling better. She caught his waving hand and kissed it.

Warm, curling fingers. She felt him wrap around her thumb and she glanced down, their eyes meeting as he held on.

"You feel better, don't you?"

Sasha was in the hallway waiting on them, as she usually was these days, and her ears perked up at the baby's sounds. The wolf let out a low rumble that came from the chest and James went still, his grey eyes blinking up at Kate.

"Sasha thinks you must be feeling better too." She dusted a kiss over the top of his head only to have her hair be tangled again. He was fast. Kate pulled back and unhooked his fingers, glancing down to Sasha, the dog still woofing low in her throat. "Keep it down so Daddy can sleep. He's worn himself out with worry all night."

Sasha grumbled in her chest and nudged against Kate's leg as if to apologize. Castle had spent the night wrapped around her, as if he needed to protect her sleep, and it had been comforting. His arms around her could keep her from feeling desperately guilty over letting it go on for so long. Letting James _starve_ this whole time.

Speaking of. James was twisting in her arms trying to find the wolf, who was still grumbling in her chest, and so Kate propped him up and sat down on the top of the stairs. Sasha came to her side and sank to her haunches, watching James avidly.

"See, James Beckett? Here's your buddy." She'd heard Castle calling him that a few times, and now it was apparently coming out of her mouth too. "I'm tired, that's all. Long night. But I guess you don't mind if I call you that."

The dog whined and nosed in under Kate's arm, whuffling against James's pajama-clad knee.

"Sasha, puppy, I caught you sneaking into our room and checking on the baby. Were you worried about him too?" She scratched Sasha behind the ears and kept her other hand on James's belly to balance him. James got excited when the dog was close and he'd been known to pitch right out of her arms.

Sasha had claimed the extra bedroom from the day they'd moved into this house, and now that it was the baby's room, she still slept there in front of the wide window, waiting on James to join here one of these days. Kate had seen the dog's protective, mothering instincts already; sometimes Sasha would bark in anxious sympathy when James mewled, as if she thought he might not be loud enough to get his parents' notice.

James reached out both arms for the dog, hapless and waving, unable yet to quite guide their direction. Sasha dipped her head and came closer, putting herself right in James's way, and the baby squealed and clutched handfuls of fur.

"Oh, Sasha, you and me, puppy. Fallen for the Castle men, huh?"

Sasha seemed to give her a sighing look, but she nestled closer to them on the stairs and dropped her head on James's belly in Kate's lap. Maybe more than just letting James do what he wanted, maybe Sasha also had missed Kate's attention and had figured out this was the way to get it.

Kate worked one hand free of the baby and stroked the wolf's head and neck, down her back, over and over. Sasha's rumble came again, that content noise almost like a purr, and she wriggled in close to them, her head on James's belly.

"Hey, missed you too, Sasha." Kate had been so distracted with Castle and James that she'd neglected the poor puppy. "And Castle has been paying all his attention to James too, hasn't he? Poor Sasha, you're a lone wolf but you still love your pack."

James waved a hand at Sasha's muzzle, and the dog didn't even flinch as the little fist struck her nose. Kate caught James's hand and pushed her thumb into his palm to kiss it. James made noises of happiness and Kate smoothed out his fingers to help him 'pet' the dog.

"Like this, James. Gentle touch. See? Better, huh, Sasha? Come on. Let's go get breakfast, all of us, and then we'll go outside, sit under the tree in the back yard. Okay?"

"You talking to the dog or James?"

Kate laughed and turned on the step to find Castle stumbling out into the hallway, rubbing his eyes and yawning as he slunk towards them. He settled down on her other side, leaning heavily into her, and she reached across her body and the baby to cup his cheek, kiss him good morning.

"Mm," he murmured. "Morning, babe. How does your foot feel?"

"Pretty good. Hurts to stand on it, but it's not throbbing as much right now. And James seems to be rebounding pretty quickly too." She held the baby with both hands as he wriggled in her lap, either excited for his daddy or the dog, hard to tell. "James Beckett, don't kick the puppy."

"I was afraid we'd have to protect the baby from the dog," Castle laughed, sitting up straight and catching James's ankle in his hand. "But I think it's the other way around. He wants her so badly and she just takes it."

"She's a good dog," she agreed. "Here, you take him."

"Has he been fed?"

"Not yet. Hasn't seemed too worried about it. I'm hoping that means he's caught up, you know? Maybe we can go four hours again, like we were doing."

"We'll see. Don't push it, Kate. We can take some time to get back up to speed."

She bit back her automatic defense - she knew he was just worried about them both, that he hadn't meant it like that - and so she simply handed James over to him. The baby fussed at finding himself in Castle's arms, but James seemed to want the dog more than his mother.

"Come on, Rick. I'll make breakfast if you keep him entertained."

"I don't think that's very fair. You _are_ breakfast. I'm no good to him."

"Shut up," she laughed, pushing on his shoulder as she carefully stood. He was watching her, studying her like he'd make a report to her doctors later.

Well, he just might.

"Hey, I love you, you know," she said softly.

Castle startled and glanced up at her. "I know," he answered. He reached out one hand and curled it around her calf on the stair. James made a noise and drew his father's attention, and Castle's gaze was fixed on his son now.

Castle looked amazing, cradling his son in one arm and staring at the baby like there was nothing else in his world. After their long day and night yesterday, she'd seen him looking too often at _her _as if he couldn't bear to look at James, for all the ways they'd failed - or something else, she hadn't known, hadn't wanted to think about.

But it was a new day.

"Come on, Castle. Breakfast. Help me down the stairs."

He did as she ordered, like a good soldier, and even Sasha followed them slowly down.

* * *

Castle watched her on the green grass, laying on her back with the wolf's muzzle settled on her stomach. She was brushing her fingers through Sasha's fur, one arm behind her head to prop herself up so she could see him with James.

The baby liked the tree and the leaves, the light and the wind as it ruffled his hair. "He's got a mohawk again," Castle chuckled, extending a hand to smooth down his dark hair. James was on a blanket between them, communing with nature.

"It's cute," she admitted.

"Your father brought a few of your baby pictures and guess what?"

"I know, I know," she grumbled, making Sasha open her eyes as her stomach moved. "I had the same hair."

"Pretty adorable," he grinned at her.

She was grinning back. And then her eyes cut to James and she startled, sitting up suddenly and coming over to the baby on the blanket. "Oh my God. Castle, Castle-"

He leaned forward and saw James was smiling at them. Actual smiling. Kate laughed and the baby smiled wider, opening his mouth with it, clearly reacting to his mother.

"Hey, there, James. What's so funny?"

James eyes shifted to him and the smile was still there, looking like he was just as thrilled with it as they were. The baby began to coo at them, noises that made Kate lean in and kiss his cheeks and little fingers, James's hands reaching for her and tangling in her hair.

Something in Castle's chest eased.

At least it was clear that the baby was doing better. James was growing and learning and smiling at them. Smiling.

Kate lifted her face from the baby and beamed at Castle. "He's smiling like crazy. Look at him."

"Yeah," Castle said, shaking his head. "So am I."

Kate laughed, a little indulgent, and she shifted to his side, sliding right into his lap, putting her back to the baby. Her kiss was soft against his chin. "You really are. You know he's got your eyebrows and eyes."

"He what?" Castle murmured, distracted by the way she kissed him now, her lips brushing against his, making that raw feeling in his chest turn inside out, like the sensitive parts of him were on the outside.

"Your eyes, your eyebrows. He draws his face up into these adorable... sometimes he looks up at me as if he's trying to figure me out. That's how you look. It's the same."

"The same," he echoed.

"Remember when you were stabbed and I drove you to the cabin?"

"Parts of it," he said cautiously.

"The agents carried you inside to my dad's living room and you opened your eyes and looked up at me. And that's the look he has sometimes too. A little dazed, a little..."

"Wonder," he murmured.

She smiled. "Wonder?"

"Kinda in love with you, Kate."

She slid her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him, cradling his head so that her fingers came to stroke his ear. She was gripping him hard, and she didn't speak, and he understood that too.

He could see the baby still on the blanket, smiling and smiling, waving his fists, so proud of himself.


	11. Chapter 11

**Close Encounters 20**

* * *

Castle checked the video feed set up outside their front door when the bell rang. Kate must have done the same, because he heard her on the stairs, thumping down awkwardly.

Castle got there first, just because he'd been in the dining room - baby grand central - changing James's diaper. He'd just snapped the tab closed over the baby's belly, getting a huge smile for his effort, so it was simple to check his phone and scoop up the kid, head for the door.

Kate was on the landing, going slowly because of her foot when Castle opened it to Lanie Parish. She was glaring at him, hands on her hips, but she reached in and snagged James right out of his hands, cradling the baby against her chest in the exact way James hated.

"I want in," Lanie said, talking fast as she pushed inside the door. "I want in on TeamKate."

"Team _Kate_?" his wife said from the stairs. She looked bewildered at first, and then nearly horrified as the implication dawned on her. "Castle."

He sighed and looked to Lanie. "First - he'll be pathetically squirming in your arms in five seconds if you don't turn him around. And second, that's the official CIA designation and only one person could have given you that. I'm writing him up."

"See if I care," Lanie spat back.

"Castle. The official CIA designation? You ass. You better not have-"

"It's not like you don't _know_," he hissed, rounding on her even as she stood three steps above him. "What do you think all this is? The regimen work, the lab, the doctors?"

"Team-fucking-James," she growled, shoving on his shoulder. "Or Team Castle. Or team anything but-"

"You're the one who's not super," he snapped, grabbing her by the wrist and preventing her from hitting him again. "You're the one who's facing serious, permanent side effects."

"Permanent?" Lanie yelled.

James startled and began to cry, and even though Castle turned and reached for the boy, his son wasn't happy with him either. He squirmed and cast pitiful looks towards his mother, and Kate, stone-faced, refused for all of five seconds.

But the moment she held him, James gripped her shirt in tight fists and mewled against her neck, shuddering.

Castle's hands hung at his sides, his body thrumming with it - his anger, his grief, all of it spilling out and over.

He was only trying to keep her alive.

Kate cupped the back of James's head and dropped her mouth to his ear, murmuring and soothing, and somehow it did things to Castle too, eased the ache despite himself.

It made James go quiet, and it seemed to calm Kate as well. When she lifted her head again, she gave him a look that was part apologetic and part _I'll deal with you later_ and then she turned to Lanie.

"TeamKate?"

"Esposito always keeps your secrets," Lanie defended. "You know he does. But something happened to you a couple days ago, and TeamKate went into effect, and suddenly he's super closed-mouthed about everything. But I know it's medical. I know it's got something to do with my nephew. And I'm a damn doctor, Kate Beckett. I want in."

Castle was the one who took Lanie by the elbow and nudged her towards the living room. "Sit. We'll explain - as best we can."

This time when Castle reached for James, the boy went into his arms and curled against his chest, small and compact, as if tired out. In fact, he fell asleep before Castle could even get to the couch.

It wasn't his nap time - he'd _just_ woken from his nap.

Kate leaned in and kissed their son's ear, but her eyes lifted to Castle's. "It's not TeamKate. It's us. Our family. All of us. We're doing this for all of us."

And then she turned to talk to Lanie, her friend who'd been left out of the loop for too long now.

* * *

"You want me to take him?" Kate said softly to her husband, trying to apologize. James had conked out in Castle's arms the second he'd been handed over, and now it even looked like he was drooling.

"No, Kate," he said back to her, shaking his head. "You're the one who knows every last detail. When Lanie is finished reading, she's going to have questions."

Kate glanced towards the open door to the basement stairs; Lanie was in the panic room reading the medical reports that Boyd, Threkeld, and Logan had filed over the last few years - from the very beginning. It was all electronic, but there weren't many copies, and the files they had at home were only in the external drive downstairs.

She sighed and looked back at her husband. He was grim, but he looked far better than he had that moment on the stairs, when he'd been thunderous and dejected and _hopeless_. She'd hated that look on his face, and she'd thought they were past that after the first night.

But it wasn't just James; it was her. He was worried about her, he was sick over it. And all the assurances and redundancies and medical check-ups weren't going to make him feel better.

"Hey," she said roughly. "When he's six months old, it all stops. Okay?"

"It's just... not that easy, Kate. Things can happen. Things we don't even know about. What if it changes you?"

Kate grimaced, wiped her hand over her eyes. "Castle, I'm being monitored. Boyd is doing a DNA sequencing on me so we can catch it - if it even happens."

Castle shook his head. "It's not just your DNA. Not just some misshaped blood cells. Kate. What if it eats holes in your brain and you're not the woman who-" He closed his eyes and turned his head and her heart broke.

"Rick," she murmured, drawing her arms around his waist, crowding him and the baby both so that her mouth came to Castle's cheek. "Rick, love, look at me. Look at me."

He opened his eyes and she saw the sunlight from the backyard reflected in his irises. He finally turned his head into her, so close that it was a blur of anguish and love.

"I will always be the woman who loves you. No matter - anything, nothing, everything. No matter time or fate or whatever the hell else the universe throws at us. Regimen or not, super or not, Castle-"

"You can't - I don't want to lose you," he rasped. "I can't-"

"You're not losing me. I promise, I promise, I know it's so fucking stupid to promise it at all, but I'm promising, damn it, Castle, I'm promising you-"

His mouth came over hers and finally shut her up - thank God - and his agony was a force inside her, but his love was more. More, everything, it was everything.

She wrapped her arm around his neck and held on to him, the other arm at his waist so she could slide her hand up under his shirt and press her palm to the bare skin of his back. Branding him, pulling him close.

He grunted and jerked away, mouth open and panting at her cheek, and she realized the baby-

"No, he's okay," Castle husked. "Okay. He's okay."

Kate dropped her arm to curl her fingers at his neck instead, kissed the working movement of his throat as he swallowed, and then eased off her throbbing foot. She glanced down and was surprised to see that James was still sacked out, so far into sleep that he'd drooled right down to Castle's t-shirt.

She laughed and leaned in, softly touched her mouth to her son's scalp, that short, spiky hair brushing her lips.

"I have an MRI scheduled for next week, you know," she told Castle quietly. "They'll test cognitive functions then as well. I'm also going to have weekly blood tests for the first three months. Then we'll see how it goes and reassess from there."

Castle let out a long breath and his arm around her waist seemed to tighten.

"Every decision that has to be made, Rick - we'll make together. That's my promise. Okay? You promised once to listen to me and not shut me out when I needed you, and I'm going to do the same. If you're not comfortable with something, if the treatment options aren't-"

"I'm not comfortable," he said, the words coming fast. "I don't like this. At all. Any of it. It's bad. I think it's bad."

She chuckled softly, and Castle shot her a scandalized look, but he couldn't hold it for long. His natural optimism was breaking through anyway, and he gave her a long sigh but tilted his forehead against hers.

"Okay," she said then. "It's bad. It's - not ideal, Rick. I know. And the second James has weaned, and I'm not breast-feeding him, it stops. It stops."

He nodded, his breath puffing out against her.

"Babe, you need to tell me these things," she whispered. "You can't not say anything. _That's_ bad. For us. You know it is."

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

"I'm sorry too."

A clatter on the stairs broke them apart, and then Lanie was hauling herself through the basement door and into the kitchen. She had a strange look on her face and definite questions in her eyes.

Lanie took one look at Castle and then turned to Kate, hands on her hips. "You're on this thing now? This lab experiment?"

"While James is nursing," she said. "Yes."

Lanie cast the baby a look that made Castle put his hand up to the boy's head, cradling him, and Kate stepped in front of them both. "Lanie."

"This is shitty, Kate Beckett. This is really shitty."

"What else can we do?" she answered, splaying her hands.

Lanie's shoulders drooped and she pulled out a kitchen chair, slumped into it. "I don't know. I don't see another way."

* * *

"He's asleep now," Lanie pointed out.

Castle still didn't let him go.

"Seriously, you two need to get out," she said.

Castle cupped his son's neck, keeping his head stable as he glanced to Kate. She was giving him this hesitant look, like she _wanted_ to go. Like she thought Lanie was right.

"Hand over the kid, Rick Castle, and no one gets hurt." Lanie was already scooping her hand under his own and taking the boy from him, cuddling him against her chest and cooing in his face. "Hey there, sweet thing. Aren't you precious?"

Kate caught his hand before he could reach out for James, her fingers squeezing tight around his. "We could get dinner," she said softly.

Castle shot her a swift look, blinking through his own hesitance to see the hope on her face. "Dinner," he echoed.

"Out." She shifted closer, thumb playing at the inside of his wrist, making it hard to think, harder to marshal a defense.

"Dinner out," he said finally. It'd been six weeks. Six weeks were over and-

"You guys go," Lanie said. "James and I are gonna bond. Right, sweet thing?"

Castle took a last look at his son, saw the baby's eyes were open and staring at Lanie. Kate's friend made a cooing noise in his face and James shifted his eyes as if to say, _you're leaving me with her?_

But Kate came in close and brushed a finger down the side of the baby's face, softly kissing his nose. "You'll be good for Aunt Lanie, won't you? Hey, sweetheart, I see you so happy."

James broke out into a wide smile, arms and feet kicking, and of course - who wouldn't when Kate Beckett was looking at you like that? Castle didn't blame the kid; he would agree - and had agreed - to anything when Kate touched him, smiling like that.

"See?" Kate said, turning back to him. "He's settled. So... dinner?"

He had to admit, he'd missed her. Missed the one on one, and not having split attention, one ear always out for the baby. "What about your foot?"

"What? You're not gonna carry me?" she smirked.

Castle snorted, trying to twist the smile off his face. But it stayed - couldn't help that either.

"See? Carry her or whatever. Just go," Lanie said, shooing them with one hand while she held the baby.

Kate actually hesitated, which made Castle more relieved than he'd meant to be. She stepped in closer to Lanie and kissed James's forehead, stroking the soft spot. "There are three bottles in the fridge, if he needs them, but he shouldn't need one until - oh, what time, Castle?"

"Uh, about eight tonight. But if he's hungry, he makes this mewling noise like a wolf cub-"

"A wolf cub?" Lanie laughed, a wild and startled laughter that made Castle stare at her.

Kate was chuckling at him too, and he felt her gripping his bicep, pulling him close. Her kiss against his shoulder seemed sympathetic, but he didn't understand. James _did _sound like a baby wolf-

"He does though," Kate said, biting her bottom lip. "So if he starts mewling - um, like a wolf cub-"

She was laughing at him. Whatever.

"Then go ahead and feed him," Kate told her. "Even if he takes all three bottles, that's fine. He might need it. We're still trying to get down a routine. Oh, and if you don't know, but you think maybe-"

"All right, all right," Lanie interrupted. "I got him. I'll feed him at eight or whenever he sounds like he needs it. Don't worry - I've got nieces and nephews and I know infant CPR."

Castle felt the blood drain out of his face and he gripped Kate's hand, only to feel her gripping just as hard back.

"Shit," she whispered, turning to him. "I don't know infant CPR. Is that different from-"

"Oh, _holy_ hell," Lanie growled. "I'll teach you when you guys get back. Just _go_. Relax. Have some wine, Kate Beckett, and fool around with each other under the table."

Castle felt the heat flushing his cheeks and laced his fingers with Kate's. She was giving him an amused smile back.

"Okay, Lanie. We're going."

* * *

They didn't have anywhere to go. Castle still looked a little hunted, like he couldn't quite loosen up, and Kate suddenly wanted to have _fun_.

She pulled her phone out and guided Castle away from their front door, out towards the metro down the block.

"Kate," he complained. "Your foot."

"I'm good right now." She was trying to google _fun in New York City_ and a thousand things were coming up, but she was determined that they were going to maximize their four hours. Preferably with some alcohol - though of course, she could only drink about a glass.

Didn't matter. She needed a drink.

"Kate. Your _foot_."

She huffed and glanced up at her husband. "I want to walk a little. At least to the metro, come on."

"It's two blocks," he muttered.

"Aw, that's sweet," she murmured, snaking her free hand through his arm. Two blocks was the subway closest to their house and the one he usually made them avoid like the plague. "But we can use the other one." The one six blocks away that he usually made them use.

"No."

"Yes," she said.

"_No_." He gripped her arm against his with a squeeze of his bicep, crushing her bones. "Kate. We can drive. Wherever it is we're going."

"Part of getting out is getting out, Castle. Getting _out_."

And then she saw it - right there on her phone. The perfect place, right there waiting for them, calling to her. She was getting excited - this was going to be _awesome. S_he was giddy with it.

She had really needed this.

"I've got an idea," she told him. "And it's close - wow, it is so close to us. We could walk it."

He gave her a disbelieving look.

"Seriously. It's in East Village. We could take Broome all the way," she said. She had to resist bouncing on her toes in her excitement - fuck, that would hurt, it already hurt - but she really wanted to go.

"You're really excited about this," he grumbled.

Kate sighed.

"I mean, you don't even seem to care that we've left our kid for the first time ever-"

"Castle," she muttered, glancing away from him.

He grunted and stopped her on the sidewalk, his arms coming around her, holding her there. "I'm sorry, that wasn't fair of me. I'm a little tense, after all this, and I have the tendency to shoot my mouth off-"

"It's not easy for me either," she said, closing her eyes.

"I know, I know, Kate. I didn't mean it. I just - it's hard to switch from abject terror and crippling worry to-"

"Rick," she sighed, opening her eyes to him. He'd been trying to joke, but the truth of it was too close to the surface. "We're back on track, we're healthy, we're good right now. Can you just enjoy right now with me?"

"Of course," he rasped, embracing her in a bone-cracking hug. He was practically sweeping her off her feet. "Of course. I love you."

Like _I love you_ could cure everything, erase all hurts, make her forget how fragile and wounding and bullying he was.

"I love you," he whispered into her hair.

And it did, damn it. It did. Erased it all, swept her clean, so that all she felt was a loving - if frustrated - tenderness for him. She cupped the side of his face and nudged her nose into him.

"We're drawing attention out here on the sidewalk, sweetheart."

"Yeah," he gruffed.

She held him a moment longer, and then she broke his hold, stepped away, keeping the wince off her face as her foot throbbed. It was not-so-strangely healing up rather fast, and while Castle expected to have to carry her, if she was good about it, she could probably survive the night.

Especially if she could manage to loosen him up.

"Come on, Rick," she grinned. "Let me show you a good time."

* * *

Castle glanced to her foot when she stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, but she wasn't favoring it too badly. He was a little sick, deep in his guts, that she _wasn't_ worse off - because of what that meant about those damn supplements - but she'd asked him for a time-out tonight, a chance to enjoy themselves, live in the moment.

He was trying.

"Here we are," Kate said, tugging on his hand.

"A... hot dog place?" Castle rubbed a hand over his chin. "Ah, Kate. You've totally opened up my world to a lot of new foods over the past few years, and you know I trust you on it, but. Hot dogs."

Hot dogs weren't really okay with him. It'd taken his wife some fast talking and flashing skin to get him to eat waffles with powdered sugar and maple syrup, and then he'd given in to things like Chinese takeout despite the MSG and the high sodium, and _then_ he'd finally allowed greasy fast food hamburgers, thinking in the back of his mind that at least it had protein.

But a hot dog.

"Come on," she said. "I promise this will be the highlight of your night."

"Kate," he warned.

"Trust me, don't you?"

"Of course." He glanced at her but she was grinning at him so deliciously, like she had a naughty mind behind those gorgeous eyes, and what could he do? "Fine. Hot dogs. Let's go."

The outside of the hot dog place was a bit nicer than he might have expected, the hunter-green-painted wood facade giving it an old world charm. The awning was black as night and the name was in tall, white lettering: Crif Dogs. A neon sign in the window said open, and it was in the shape of a pig.

Weren't hot dogs supposedly made of beef?

Kate opened the front door of number 113, a heavy wooden thing that Castle immediately took from her when she twisted funny on her foot. "You okay?"

"Good, I'm good," she said, a little breathless.

He waited and she went in ahead of him, his eyes on her legs and was she limping?

After a second, he realized that almost no one was inside the hot dog place. The walls were white brick and lit with lamps, completely unlike his idea of a hot dog diner - gourmet or not - and Kate was tugging him past the red stools that lined the bar.

Yeah, he could see how he might need a few beers to help him wash down the taste of... hot dog.

Shit, she couldn't _possibly_-

"What are you doing?" he chuckled, watching as Kate opened an ancient-looking phone booth at the back. The doors were wood with frosted glass panels, they accordianed to one side and Kate tugged him after her. "Kate, babe, we're not both going to fit-"

He stopped in stunned disbelief as the whole back wall _moved_. To one side.

And out came a raucous tumult of laughter and music and voices, all from a teeming mass of people taking up a low-ceilinged bar and dining room just beyond the wall of the phone booth.

"Holy shit," he gasped.

Kate was smiling, broad and wide, her tongue touching her teeth as she pulled him after her.

"What-?"

She laced their fingers together and tugged him towards a hostess's stand just inside, giving Castle a chance to stare at their surroundings. The dark wood of the walls and floor and the thin wooden beams that comprised the ceiling were so worn and polished with time that the candlelight danced off of every surface.

The walls were hung with animal heads and taxidermy - deer head to one side of the bar, a gorilla which couldn't be real, a swordfish in one corner, gazelle antlers just to one side of the bar, a grizzly bear standing up with claws bared right beside the hostess.

It was a woman dressed like a flapper, roaring twenties haircut and tassels and all of it. Castle let out a stunned breath and Kate gripped his arm, pulling him to follow the woman.

"We're in a speakeasy," he garbled, blinking in the dim light to look at Kate.

She was grinning so widely he thought she might jump him.

"This is - so cool," he whispered. He wished he had a fedora.

* * *

When they were seated at a circle booth in the back, their corner only lit by candles in red-glass shades, Kate took out her phone and surreptitiously checked the security feed from their house, cycling through the cameras until she found James asleep in the cradle.

Oh, and how sweet, Lanie was sitting in the rocking chair, doing something on her phone but keeping an eye on James.

After Castle ordered them both a drink, he nudged her thigh, hand tripping down to squeeze her knee. "What's-"

Kate bit her bottom lip and put her phone on the table, pushed it Castle's direction. He leaned in close, their shoulders touching, and a grin broke out across his face.

"You were nervous," he said softly. His eyes lifted to hers and she was surprised by how grateful he looked. "Me too. I... he's okay though."

She hooked her fingers over his on her knee, squeezed a little. "Yeah. He's just fine."

"How's your foot?"

"A little wine will help," she admitted, trying to shrug it off. She wasn't sure if she wanted him to know just how quickly the pain had sharpened - and then how easily it had dulled the moment they had sat down. "I think it's the stitches, actually. If that makes any sense. They itch."

"They do?" he murmured, glancing down towards her foot like he could see through the table and her shoe both.

Kate leaned in a little closer, putting her side against his, trying to distract him. "What'd you order for me?"

Castle chuckled. "Johnny Walker on the rocks. Kinda _have _to, right? A place like this. So awesome."

Well that had worked fast. Kate pressed her lips together to keep from smiling, shook her head. "Sure. Johnny Walker. But you better be getting me dinner too."

"Yeah, there's a menu. See? Right here."

He slid the single black-backed menu over towards her and she took a breath at the prices. Maybe she should have looked that up before-

"No, don't," he murmured. He tweaked her ear and then curled her hair behind it. "First date with a baby - or well, baby's at home, but I mean - this is a first, right? So forget the price."

She rubbed the edge of the menu. "Yeah, okay. I'm in." She tilted her head and kissed the heel of his hand, catching his fingers and pulling them down to her knee again. He squeezed and then teased, tickling the inside of her knee and then her thigh and she had to let out a little breath, shivering as it hit her senses.

"You're in?" he echoed softly.

She turned her head away from him just to get control of the flutter of her heart, knowing it was a combination of the last few weeks of sleeplessness and worry and having his attention on her when it wasn't about her health.

When she was about to - she had no idea, just that she had flames curling inside her belly and licking at her heart - her phone buzzed against the tabletop.

Kate jumped and Castle chuckled, but he passed her phone over. She took a long breath and touched her thumb to the button. It recognized her print and unlocked the screen for her, and she checked her new email, still trying to get herself together.

Her stomach dropped out.

"What's wrong?" Castle said urgently, crowding in as if to hide her from the room.

"It's - it's from..." She sucked in a breath and showed Castle the message.

_Congratulations, Kate. I hear he was early._

Black.

That was all. Castle pressed her phone back to the table and his fingers went still, his body still, his eyes not seeing, a swirl of cold in the blue of his irises.

Kate felt the twist in her guts and the prick of sweat at her palms, and she really needed to not panic right now. She really needed to not fall into it.

"Castle," she rasped.

He turned to her, seeing her again, his eyes clearing, and he reached out for her and gripped the back of her neck, pulled her against him.

She found her breath and shuddered, and Castle buried his mouth at her ear. "Okay, it's okay. It's fine, Kate. We're all okay."

She gripped his bicep and hung on to him, closing her eyes to focus, to keep out of that spiral.

Suddenly their drinks were deposited with a thud of tumblers on the table and she stiffened, pulled away, blinking at the waiter. Castle kept his fingers at her neck, shifting closer, his thumb rubbing the base of her skull and making her shoulders relax.

It was okay. They were okay.

She needed that drink.


	12. Chapter 12

**Close Encounters 20**

* * *

The moment Castle managed to get Kate home, he was stunned by how she practically ignored Lanie and gathered James into her arms, cradling the baby against her chest.

That email had rocked her, more than he'd thought. She'd been so confident and calm about everything during the pregnancy, and even the six weeks adjusting to their son's needs and routine, but the past few days had made her vulnerable.

"Well, Kate Beckett, hello to you too," Lanie laughed. She leaned in to tap James's nose as he made noises at his mother's shoulder. "Someone's happy to see you. But James had fun with his Aunt Lanie. Didn't you?"

"Thanks, Lanie," Kate said, and Castle was impressed that her voice wasn't even shaking, that the relief wasn't evident.

"Did he take the bottle?" Castle asked, hoping to direct attention away from his wife. "Or do we need to feed him?"

"Honestly, I tried, but he wouldn't take it from me. Or he wasn't hungry. He never cried. He just mewled like you said, and I picked him up, and-" Here she curled in around James at Kate's shoulder. "-you loved that, didn't you, cupcake? Such a sweetheart."

Kate met his eyes over Lanie's babytalk and he smiled at her, shrugging a little. He wasn't sure they were going to get rid of Lanie any time soon. Cupcake? A wolf was not a cupcake.

"Come sit in the living room with us," Kate said, smiling at her friend. "I'll see if he wants a bottle now. We can talk."

Castle lifted an eyebrow at her in question and she pressed her lips together. Okay. He'd find something else to do. "There are about five loads of laundry in the basement that I was - ah, well, in the middle of."

"When Kate broke her foot?" Lanie said, giving Kate a look. "I'll take a look at those stitches too. And what'd they do - tape it with a splint?"

"Yeah," Kate chuckled, allowing Lanie to lead her into the living room and away from Castle. He sighed softly, but at least Lanie had Kate's best interest in mind. And maybe she'd keep Kate off her feet and sitting down.

And holding James close. That would help. They'd had a fun meal at the speakeasy, gotten caught up in the Prohibition-era glamour, but of of course, at the back of their minds was the idea that maybe the email had been timed for a reason.

But nothing was amiss.

And he had laundry to finish. The kid went through an amazing amount of laundry.

* * *

When Lanie had finally left, Kate went to search for her husband. He'd been in and out, putting clean diaper cloths in a stack on the dining room table, heading upstairs with a bunch of onesies, the scent of fabric softener and warm linens lingering in the room.

She didn't want to go far, and James was asleep curled at her chest, his head fitting snugly at her neck, so she didn't call out for Castle. At the basement door, she stepped onto the landing at the top and glanced down. He must have been waiting to be allowed back inside her circle, because he saw her immediately and came hustling up the stairs.

"Hey," he said, voice a little rough. He leaned in and kissed James's temple, his thumb brushing over the baby's ear. She loved the way he looked at their son, loved that adoration and surprise on his face whenever he caught sight of James.

Sometimes it made her heart hurt, the two of them together. When she'd gotten pregnant, all she could think about was giving Castle a child of theirs, but after a while, it wasn't enough. Wasn't enough that she was giving Castle more to love, because she wanted in on it. She wanted it to be the three of them, and now that she saw just how wonderful it really was, she couldn't possibly not fight for it.

"Thanks for dinner, Kate," he murmured. "I know it was a little ruined by my father's-"

"No. Not - I won't let him ruin our here and now," she said purposefully. She meant it; she was done with letting Black haunt their life together. "Don't let him ruin-"

"He won't. He's not," Castle said. His voice was rough but he wasn't shutting down; he was still here. "Let me take James; you should ice your foot, Kate."

She gave up the baby to him, went ahead and admitted that her foot really hurt. "Lanie said the stitches looked irritated."

To her surprise, her honesty didn't have Castle immediately bullying her to get off her feet. "I had stitches once," he said instead. "If you remember."

She huffed a surprised laugh. "I remember. You were stabbed in the back, Castle. And not by me."

He chuckled at her, his palm coming around to cup the back of James's head, keep him steady against his chest. "No, honey. Never by you."

"What's with honey?" she murmured, slipping him a look as she turned to gather the ice packs. "You keep pulling that one out there. And _babe_."

"Feels kinda wrong to say _baby_," he admitted. "Back to the stitches. Do you remember how quickly the wound healed? How my jumping into the therapy swimming pool made you a nervous wreck."

She turned back and thumped his ear for that. "I was not a nervous wreck."

"_Babe_. You were a nervous wreck."

She liked babe, actually. Not the nervous wreck stuff, but she felt a special little thrill when he came out with _babe._ He was right - baby didn't sound right now that they _had_ a baby.

"Okay, so your stitches. What are you getting at, _babe_?"

He winked. "It's just that you're probably healing faster than Boyd might have expected. You said they were itching, and Lanie said irritated. That's healing."

She pulled the gel pack from the freezer and let herself really think about that. They'd amped up her intake at first, testing her blood to make sure her levels were right again, and now it was the normal pill a day, but...

"Okay," she said, cradling the ice against her hip, fingers cold. "You're right."

He looked stunned that she had agreed, but he smiled at her, nodded towards the living room. "I'll put James in the swing and sit with you, ice your foot?"

"Yeah," she said softly. But she came forward and met Castle, leaned in to brush a kiss to her son's little ear. She loved those ears. How beautiful and delicate, and how much fun to take inventory of all his soft, miniature pieces.

"Kind of amazing, huh?" Castle murmured.

"More than amazing," she smiled. "Thank you. Thank you for knocking me up, Agent Castle."

He laughed, apparently caught off guard, loud enough to jostle the baby and make his eyes flash open.

Grey-blue, beautiful, watching her.

"Hey there, my little wolf. You want to swing?"

"Whether you do or not, you're going in the swing," Castle chuckled. "Mommy and Daddy want to make out." And then he moved forward to get James settled, and hopefully fall deeper asleep, but the spell wasn't broken at all.

It was still more than amazing.

* * *

She'd nodded off on the couch with her feet in her husband's lap. Castle had apparently carried her up to bed, because she woke around six in the morning feeling better than she had in days - and wide awake. She was alone though, which meant Castle had taken the baby downstairs to keep from waking her.

She felt hot and constricted in her skinny jeans and off-the-shoulder sweater; she had to yank them off over her head just to breathe. She felt grungy from falling asleep in her clothes, and she rubbed two hands over her face and took a breath.

Her mascara came off in crumbles against her palms and she made a face, slipped her legs out of bed. She put a tentative foot to the floor, but her toes felt okay. Not great, a little sensitive, but not throbbing with pain either.

She hunted on the floor for something to drag on over her head, found his Superman t-shirt, the one she'd bought for him early on when he'd been jumping from mission to mission and using her apartment as his base of operations. When he'd moved in with her without her say. She saw it now for what it was - his fear of losing her if he came right out and asked. He'd been aggressive with her physically, even emotionally, but he couldn't take it that far without being sure she'd meet him there.

She kind of adored him. He was a sweet and kind man and he probably had never thought of himself that way. Their first case when they'd been searching for a foreign spy, he'd been orienting toward her. That night in her bedroom, 'protecting' her from the enemies in black SUVs outside her apartment, he'd looked at her like she was something precious. She had known, even then, how rare that must have been for him, to have someone he could deal with honestly, and on equal footing.

His t-shirt made her feel safe. Her own Superman cloaking her.

Kate slipped into the bathroom and ran water in the sink, splashed her face to get rid of the mascara and streaks of eyeliner that had smudged her lids. She patted her skin dry with a towel and looked in the mirror.

Not bad. She didn't look so tired anymore, the dark circles were there but they didn't make her face look bruised. Actually, her eyes seemed huge. Maybe it was the make-up still smudged around her lids. Oh well.

Wearing just his t-shirt, Kate padded out of the bedroom and down the hall, stepped lightly on the stairs, trying to keep off her foot.

When she came into the living room, she paused at the sight, heart tripping.

Castle was crouched in front of the baby swing, talking to his son, morning light touching her two guys' faces. Castle was in a loose pair of sweatpants - the kind he wore to the training base - and a black, cotton t-shirt, tight around his biceps. James was kicking his feet and almost - almost laughing.

Castle was baby-talking to their son. None of Lanie's cupcake, but she heard some _little wolf_ in there.

Her hand came to her mouth and she smiled, aching for them. Castle was making faces as he talked, that knowing tone to his voice, secrets shared between the two males. And James was so close to laughing. Oh, it would happen soon. He nearly had it.

She sank back against the doorframe so neither would sense her presence; she didn't want to interrupt. She had found herself doing the same thing with James, being just as free and caught up because a baby couldn't judge. The baby, in fact, really _loved_ how silly they could be.

"James Beckett, look, my man. Here's the thing..."

She didn't hear what the thing was, but James was kicking his feet and trying to talk back, making noises, his eyes riveted on his daddy. Kate caught snatches of something about giving mommy a break and sleep and then baseball, but Castle hated baseball, so she had no idea what he was discussing with their son.

He started the swing and as it began to rock back and forth in the doorway to the kitchen, James's eyes grew so heavy. Oh, and that was adorable too, how he tried not to fall asleep, but six was early for him, and he'd probably woken to feed. He might sleep another couple hours.

Castle's voice got softer and softer until Kate couldn't make out any of the syllables, only the murmur of his warmth in the room.

She loved him. She loved them both so much.

James was practically gone, his little body slumped in the seat, his mouth open. From where she stood nearly in the dining room, she could see Castle's face in profile. The adoration, the fierce protective need - it flooded her with an equal want so thick, so necessary, that she couldn't keep away.

She bit her bottom lip and came forward; she could see the moment that Castle realized she was there. He turned, still crouched before the swing as it rocked their son. Kate slipped her hand to his shoulder and lifted her fingers to stroke in his hair, around the shell of his ear, rubbing at the scruff of his jaw.

He reached back and took her fingers, kissed the tips. The touch burned through her. How she needed him right now. Needed that joy shared between them, that connection.

"Come here," she said throatily.

He stood up and stepped away from the arc of the swing, wrapped his arms around her so that she was flush to his warm chest, his beating heart.

"Love you," she hoarsed.

His fingers skimmed at the hem of her t-shirt, inching it up, as his nose nuzzled against her neck. "I fed him and he'll sleep a few hours."

"Is that your way of asking me if I want to get lucky?"

"Oh, babe. I'm the one getting lucky."

"I think you just might be," she smiled.

* * *

Castle was the one who unbuckled James from the swing, and even though the boy startled awake, those round eyes opening wide, he slowly sank back into sleep as his father cuddled him close.

"You didn't even realize we were gone, did you?" he whispered, cupping the boy's head.

Kate came into the living room and headed for them, freshly out of the shower, smelling like lemons and honeysuckle. He wanted to get a look at her toes, those stitches, and she'd left it unwrapped for him.

She came in close and stroked the soft spot at James's head and kissed the side of his face, breathing in. "Mm, James smells like warm, sleepy baby. And you smell like soap," she said, smiling at him. "Though not so sleepy."

Castle leaned in, but she stumbled, and he had to catch her with his free hand. He gripped her elbow and nudged her nose with his. "You okay?" he whispered.

"I'm good," she hummed, eyes opening as their lips hovered close. Memory of what they'd just done upstairs seemed to shimmer between them.

"Good? You're amazing," he gruffed. Good to feel that connection again, find her - as always - on the same page with him. "Gorgeous too, you know."

She turned her head against his neck and he could feel her smile tugging on her lips. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah," he sighed. So earnest; he couldn't keep it down. Better change the subject. "You've been calling him James Beckett."

"You started it," she insisted, pulling back. "I've heard you. Don't deny it."

"Hm, true." He smiled as she sank down to the couch, the Ugly Couch, where they'd done quite a few other things. "But it slipped out. Do you think he'll end up James Beckett, both names? Or worse, JB?"

"No," she said softly. "And JB's not bad. And we've both called him just Jay. Our own special name for him, maybe." She patted the cushion beside her. "Sit. Come on. I'll take him and you can look at my foot, see for yourself."

Castle sank down beside her and they gently handed off the baby, Kate leaning back against the couch to let James curl at her shoulder. He slept better like that, a tight ball against his parent's neck, as if he liked to feel skin and hear a heartbeat.

"Your dad calls you Katie," he said, keeping the conversation going. He wanted to know if James Beckett or even Jay was going to stick, what the protocol was on nicknames. "Did your mom?"

"Yeah," she said, a sad smile gracing her lips.

Castle leaned over and circled his fingers at her calf, brought her foot up into his lap to distract her. "You think we'll call him Jamie?"

"Jamie?" she said, wrinkling her nose. "He's not a Jamie."

"No," he agreed. Her toes slowly separated under her own power, and he was impressed. He wondered what it was costing her. "This hurt?"

"Mm, yes. It hurts."

"Then stop," he chuckled. She shot him a dirty look. "It looks good, Kate. I mean, the stitches are a little irritated, like you said. But it's healing... very fast."

She nodded, looking at him with such dark, fathomless eyes.

"Are you scared?" he whispered.

She shook her head. "No. I feel I should be? If I was smart, I would be. But I can't be scared when it's..."

"What?" he said. He figured he could be worried enough for the both of them, especially since - personality-wise - he was the one able to let it slough off so quickly. He was better at being in the moment, which meant he usually handled worries with less obsession. Usually.

When it came to Kate, though, probably not the case. Still, he'd rather she wasn't wound up over it.

"I don't know. How can I be scared of being what he needs?" She shrugged with one shoulder and touched her cheek to the top of James's head.

Castle could barely survive just the sight of them together, his son and his wife, Kate's generous and vibrant spirit and James's personality already unfurling.

"Makes me want to cry," she sighed.

"What?" he said, caught off guard.

"Fucking hormones."

He laughed, a little too loud maybe, but it hit him like that, and she was smiling too, and even though James stirred, he didn't rouse again. He was out.

"I don't care," Kate muttered. "I can cry over my son and his father and how good it is to have done something... to have made this. We made this, Castle. Isn't that - it's worth it. All of it. How _much_ it's worth."

Castle reached out and skimmed the tear from her cheek with the back of a finger but he didn't comment, didn't ask why. She straightened up, brushing her own fingers after his, swiping at her cheeks and laughing a little. Castle came closer to sit with them, wedging himself right at her side so that he could draw an arm around her.

Kate curled into him, knees drawn up at James's back now, letting them both watch their son as he slept. He couldn't believe how delicate it all was, those half-fisted fingers with their tiny fingernails - which they should cut again - the curve of his lips and the smooth slope of his nose. So delicate.

Kate lifted a hand and ran her palm over the dark fuzz of his James's hair; it was sticking up again. "I think we should have your mother over," she said quietly.

"I don't want her to ruin it," he sighed.

"Castle," she chided.

"I know. That's unfair of me." Jim had been over quite a lot, taking James in his arms and talking to him in that low, warm voice. Kate usually dragged Castle upstairs to the office so they could at least keep up with work email. It would be bad when they got back, but not as bad, at least.

"It's been six weeks - more," she said. "She needs an outright invitation, and you know it."

"I get it, I do." But he fell silent and didn't say more, didn't give in to her either. Even though he knew he should.

"She's James's grandmother, you know. Not just your mom. But she's the only grandmother he's got."

"Shit," he cursed softly, tilting his head back. "I didn't - it didn't hit me like that till you said it."

"I know," she soothed. "I'm sorry. I'd have it be just us for as long as possible. Forever. But we have responsibilities. To him, too. To your mother who loves us. You know she loves you, Castle, right?"

"I - I know. And she deserves to know him as well," Castle said softly. "Even if she couldn't keep me. I guess this is one boy she can."

"Oh, Rick," she murmured. She looked so damn sympathetic.

Dr King had once accused him of wanting to close it off, pretend like it wasn't there, had never hurt him, like his mother's abandonment hadn't so very totally remade his life. Well, it hadn't been an accusation so much as an honest assessment. Castle had been thinking of it ever since. He'd been nonchalant with Kate every time it had come up, like it had no longer mattered.

But it had. It did. And it was time to let it go. He thought James might be a big help with that, a way to smooth their way. It was easy to talk about James; it gave them common ground, made the stilted awkwardness go away.

"He'll have a complete set," Kate said then. "My dad, your mom. All he needs."

Goodness knew, James wasn't going to meet Black, let alone have a relationship with him. Ever. So yeah, a complete set might be a good idea.

"All right," Castle sighed. "This week? I think this week. I - I should've invited her sooner, shouldn't I? She's going to be sad."

"At first," Kate whispered, stroking her fingers now at the nape of his neck, kissing his jaw softly, the baby between them still asleep. "A little sad at first, but with a grandson to love on - she'll be fine."

Castle caught her fingers and kissed the tips, grateful she was such a good woman.

He needed to be just as good a man.

* * *

Now that Castle was on board with it, ready for it, everyone flocked to them.

It was like he'd issued an emotional open house. After Lanie had baby-sat for them, she must have spread the word, because Jenny and Ryan came next, bringing Sarah Grace with them and comparing notes.

_You sleep when he sleeps_, Jenny had told her. Kate wished she'd gotten that advice earlier, but it still was welcome. Sarah Grace was already scooting around the floor, not content to stay on the baby blanket, and James watched her like a hawk, as if learning, scary thought.

When they'd left, Castle sat down on the floor with James and stroked his fingers over the boy's belly. It made the baby wave both arms and legs, happy and excited, and already he looked like he was ready to flip over and crawl just like his older cousin.

Kate sank down beside him, her legs out in front of her and giving James a focal point, something to reach for. Her phone was vibrating with another message - this time Esposito, huffy that Ryan had gotten to come over before him. She was texting him back when Castle spoke.

"You think I'm going to be a good dad to him?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered, no hesitation. She looked over at him and tried to let every ounce of sincerity show on her face. How serious she was about that.

Castle turned his head and pressed his cheek to her shoulder, his eyes moving to the baby. His mother was coming tomorrow to watch James during the afternoon so they could catch up on errands, go Christmas shopping. Neither of them would be gone from the house at the same time, but she knew he was worried about his mother's capabilities.

And apparently his own as well.

"You love him," she said. "Look how you love him. You've cherished him from the moment you knew about him. Love makes all the difference in the world, Rick."

"My mother loved me," he pointed out. As if to say, _and look what happened there. _"I just want to love him _right_. Be good for him."

"You already are," she promised, tilting her cheek against his forehead. "You have been exactly what he needs, from the beginning."

When he didn't seem happy with that, like it was something he had to think on, she curled her knees up and slanted into him.

"Castle."

"Yeah?"

"I love you. You're the man I want as father of my son. No one else. Does that help?"

His lips stretched into something radiant and shy, like that little boy left at school, and she couldn't help wrapping both arms around his head and pulling him against her.

"It helps," he muttered, sounding faintly embarrassed at having needed reassurance. "More than... it's everything. You're everything, Kate."

* * *

Castle pushed the ham back into the oven, squinting into the heat as he raised the door on it once more. He'd basted their main course in honey and brown sugar with just a touch of mustard, just like Jim's recipe had called for, but it also required constant attention. Something Kate's mother had done, and Castle wanted to pull this off for her sake - family traditions.

They usually didn't do Christmas _on_ Christmas, but this year was different.

He was determined this one would be different - wipe out last year from her memory. Last year when he'd been basically unconscious so they could suck the fluid out of his lungs, last year when she'd been forced to sit by his bed and watch him deteriorate. Watch him be laid low by a mutated chest cold, as humiliating as that had been, and _dying_ of it.

Those weren't going to be her Christmas memories; he refused to let drowning in the lake or drowning in a hospital bed be the things she associated the holidays with. He wanted so much more for her - she deserved so much more - and thankfully, so far their curious little son had followed along with the plan.

Baby's firsts and all of that - it made a difference, even if they both knew he'd never remember this.

Shit, Castle's nearly dying had only been _last year_. All that grief she'd carried, that pushed-to-the-edge, and now look where they were, what they'd accomplished, how good they'd made it.

James was nine weeks old and Jim Beckett would be coming over for a four o'clock dinner - her father had even _asked_ to be a part of their holiday. And they were actually doing holiday, in their own controlled way. Castle and Kate had put up a tree in the living room that James liked to lie under and reach ineffectually for the twinkling lights. Sasha liked to slink around under the tree as well, even though she was a little too big for that. Kate had been forced to take off the ornaments on the lower third of tree, hang them up higher to keep dog and baby from breaking something.

Stockings. Somewhere, somehow, Kate had produced three little stockings to hang on the mantle, James's name embroidered on the biggest. He'd even had gifts, which Castle and Kate hadn't exactly told each other they were both doing, and so their son's presents from Santa had spilled over to their own stockings, which had been otherwise empty.

Which pushed Castle into thinking about next year, and maybe putting something special in her stocking, a piece of jewelry in its box or even something silly, just to make her laugh, see her smile. Castle had imagined Christmases in the future, and how they would be, and he could tell that Kate, this morning, had been thinking the same.

So yeah, this year was definitely different. Carrie had mailed them a package that they'd gotten just a few days ago, and those presents for James had been under the tree. Gifts from their friends, from the guys in the medical team, and of course from himself and Kate - had been waiting to be opened. Even though James was too little to know, to remember, they had both wanted his first Christmas to be memorable for them at least.

Wrapping paper was still scattered all across the living room floor, ripped to shreds from the dog and James. Kate had taken the baby upstairs to change him into cute clothes for dinner, and to get him away from the small pieces of paper he kept trying to chew. Castle was thinking about attempting a family picture, spy-paranoia be damned.

Martha had even come last night, Christmas Eve, had a few drinks and dinner, played with her grandson. James had seemed both overwhelmed by her attention and amused at the same time, as if his grandmother had been conjured up to entertain him.

A full holiday. It was so different for them.

With the ham baking in the oven and the basting done for now, Castle abandoned the kitchen to seek out his wife and son, see what had happened to them, how far they'd gotten in the process of changing clothes.

As he climbed the stairs, he could hear them both - Kate talking softly, almost teasingly, and the baby making his noises, talking back. When he stopped at the top step, he leaned his head around to check, and he could see them both on the floor in front of the baby mirror, Kate sitting cross-legged behind James and propping him upright with one hand.

James was leaning forward, his face close to his own reflection, talking to himself, arms moving. Kate was laughing at him, her hair falling forward so that James's eyes would startle up to look at her before he went back to chatting himself up.

Castle could see the way he moved his tongue around in his mouth, experimenting with noises. He'd just discovered that tongue, and he came alive with laughter when Castle or Kate stuck out theirs at him. Now James got a palm against the mirror and slapped at it, breathing out a long sound of happiness, and Kate leaned in over him, kissing his cheek.

"Hey," Castle said, coming into the baby's room. James's eyes found him in the mirror but it was only a moment and then he was back to making love to his reflection.

Kate turned and looked at Castle, that smile so wide across her face. "For some reason, he has _just _discovered this mirror."

"If I'd known, I wouldn't have gotten him so many toys for Christmas," Castle laughed, sinking down to the floor beside them. "Hey, kid. Taking your presents back."

James tried to blow spit bubbles around the work of his tongue - and failed - and Castle laughed, reaching out a hand to softly scratch the boy's head. James waved his hands and got his tongue out, making himself laugh, and when he saw himself laughing in the mirror, it made him laugh even harder, until the baby was practically gasping with it.

Castle glanced at Kate and saw the same crazy smile was on her face that was on his own, and he slipped his hand to her back, leaned in to kiss that beautiful mouth.

She nudged her nose into his, breathed against his lips with that sigh he'd heard a lot of lately.

Happiness.

"Hey," she whispered, a soft kiss to get his attention. But of course she already had it; she'd had his attention from the first day he'd followed her through the city on the trail of a Chinese spy. Kate hummed and her forehead nudged against his, always nuzzling now, always pushing in close to him. "Hey, I love you."

He cupped the side of her face and kissed her again, softly, lips brushing. "Love you too. And Merry Christmas."

"Yeah," she whispered. "It really has been. I never thought it could be so... I never expected this, Rick. But thank you."

She was thanking _him_. After all this.

"I hope it's been just as good for you," she murmured.

"Oh, Kate. You know it has, you have to know it's been absolutely amazing."

* * *

end of **Close Encounters 20: Happy and Glorious**

stay tuned for **Close Encounters 21: Casino Royale** _in which Spy Castle and Spy Beckett bet the house to gamble with their lives._

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In the meantime, check out Amazon for my latest ebook, **A Living Fire** by Laura Bontrager. You can read an excerpt of the first few pages on my tumblr site: writingwell


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